Boundaries
by The Blue Raven
Summary: After the events of “Revelations,” Joe Kavanaugh finds himself secretly liaising with the Sanctuary as they attempt to prevent a war, avoid exposure, and retrieve one of their own at the same time.
1. Chapter 1

**Boundaries **

**Summary:** After the events of "Revelations," Joe Kavanaugh finds himself secretly liaising with the Sanctuary as they attempt to prevent a war, avoid exposure, and retrieve one of their own at the same time.

**Author's Note:** sequel to "Jurisdiction" in which Detective Joe Kavanaugh realizes that Will's new job is a little stranger than he thought.

**Author's Note 2: **I've had this on my WiP pile for ages and I know it'll become completely AU once season 2 hits, but I put a lot of work and thought into it so I wanted to get it out there. Like most people inflicted with muses, my attention-span can be a little on the-- _**SHINY SQUIRREL!!!**_

Sorry. Where was I? *review notes* Right. So I've been working on this one and off for about five months but other projects kept side-tracking me. I've been writing all out to get this posted before season 2 hits in a few hours. It isn't as edited/polished as I usually like my fics to be, but it's been read through and marked up several times so there shouldn't be too many mistakes. Enjoy!

**Chapter 1**

"You wanted to see me, Commissioner Grayson?" Joe asked as he entered her spacious office.

"Yes, Joe. Please close and lock the door."

He did as directed before approaching her desk and dropping into the chair she indication.

"What can I do for you, Commissioner?"

"Well, you can start by calling me Amanda from now on."

He sighed. "You're asking me to call you Amanda. I'm just _not_ going to enjoy hearing what you have to say, am I?"

"Afraid not," she answered, shaking her head. "Your job-description just changed, Joe."

"No!" he protested, shaking his head. "You can_not_ permanently reassign me to the Sanctuary. You may be Commissioner, but you're still accountable to City Hall."

"Relax, Joe," she advised. "I'm not trying to detach you to Helen. I just need a Victim's Advocate."

He frowned, confused. "I don't know the first thing about Advocacy."

"But you do know a thing or two about abnormals," she answered. "And, right now, I've got seventeen abnormals in the hospital after various Hate Crimes against them."

He stared. "Seventeen? Will said it wasn't uncommon, but I didn't realize it was _that_ bad."

"This isn't normal at all, Joe," she sighed, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes. She didn't look like a woman who had been getting much sleep. "There was always a lot of harassment and threats, but we usually get _maybe_ two or three physical attacks a year."

"What changed?" he asked, frowning.

"You obviously don't read tabloids," she answered, tossing a paper across the desk.

He picked it up, frowning at the cover-story. "A walrus-man killed a family in Alaska?"

"One attack of many in the past week," she sighed. "Helen believes this is as the result of some Cabal bio-weapon."

"Cabal?"

"They didn't explain to you about the Cabal?"

"Will said there were some secret societies out there who weren't so cool with the ideas of humans and abnormals coexisting. He didn't name names."

"Fair enough," she answered, putting her glasses back on and pulling a bottle of Excedrin out of a drawer and extracting two. Which she popped in her mouth and _chewed_. "The Cabal are the worst offenders and they've decided to up the ante. There have been several attacks in Alaska and Canada and they've been highly publicized in the tabloids and on the internet."

"Which, from what Will said, is bad for abnormals everywhere."

"Exactly. Now, these attacks started less than a week ago but, yesterday, a website went up similar to the ones that exist to Out known sex-offenders. Only this one offers a cash reward for information leading to actual abnormals. The ones who couldn't go into hiding fast enough started to get attacked. It's nationwide assuming it's _that_ limited."

"Jesus…"

"I need you to liaise with Doctor Zimmerman on this, talk to the victims, assure them that, abnormal or not, Old City PD _is_ in their corner. And I need you to figure out whether this is organized or not."

"I'll do my best."

"Thank you, Joe."

"My job, Commissioner," he answered, climbing to his feet.

"Joe, I need you to understand something."

He froze, her tone of voice telling him it was nothing he wanted to hear. "Shoot."

"The Cold War's turning hot. The old methodologies no longer apply. The Cabal started this, but the Sanctuary will end it."

"By any means necessary?"

She closed her eyes, spinning her chair until her back was to him. "I would imagine so, yes."

"Where's that leave us as cops?"

"In a precarious situation. For the time being, just keep your eyes open and your head down. I'll be in touch. Help our victims, but keep yourself safe."

"You okay, there, Commissioner?"

"I told you, it's Amanda. And, no, I'm _not_ okay. Dismissed, Detective."

0101010

"You look like shit," Joe noted, entering Will's office.

The psychiatrist smiled bitterly, putting down the file he was reading. "Thanks, Joe."

"Sorry. You just…"

"Have had a total of just under ten hours of sleep in the past five days and just lost a close personal friend."

"I'm sorry. What happened?"

Will shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Talking's not going to change a thing that's just happened. This crap with the Cabal is to the abnormal community what September 11th was to the rest of us. The Cabal brought war to our doorstep and _all_ we can do is cope with that fact."

Joe pushed back the images and sensations _that_ comparison raised. Raw and bloodied knuckles, the smell of accelerant sharp in the air even weeks after the last flames burnt themselves out, oppressive chest-pain from the dust and chemicals still heavy in the air, shifting rubble and seeing that kid's hand, gray from the soot but otherwise completely unscathed.

He shook himself, needing to get his mind back on task. "What form's this 'coping' going to take?"

"For now? Digging in and taking the siege mentality to new heights." Will sighed and shook his head again, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not going to lie, Joe. They've got us on the run right now. We lost Watson and we've lost Ashley. Henry's damned-near catatonic between the guilt and the grief. Our whole world's pretty much on the brink of complete exposure. Magnus is running all-out on this weird combination of rage and heartbreak that I can't even bring myself to _consider_ right now.

"Druitt's sane for the time being but that doesn't usually last. Tesla says he's with us but God knows whether that's going to hold once the Cabal launches its first wide-scale offensive against the Sanctuary. I've got about a dozen patients downstairs with varying degrees of Post-Traumatic Stress on top of their physical injuries.

"Without naming names, several of us are pushing ourselves completely off the deep end trying to make things right. The Cabal currently holds the key to directing human evolution. Everything this organization is working for is completely falling apart and that is all kinds of terrifying on all kinds of different levels." Sucking in a deep breath, he added, "It's also entirely possible that I've been completely overdoing it with the stimulants."

"Just a little," Joe answered, staring at him with wide eyes. "Not much of that made any sense at all, Will. I fall out of touch for two weeks and all this happens? What have I missed, man?"

"A _lot_," Will said, gesturing for him to have a seat.

Joe listened in silence. Interrupting wasn't remotely necessary; Will was completely wired and way more talkative than usual as a result.

The goddamned September 11th parallels kept coming back up, in different contexts. The fact that an underground, international entity had brought a war to the Sanctuary's doorstep. The fact that they had just been slapped in the face with how completely unsafe they actually _were_ when they'd liked to think that they would be fine as long as they didn't bother anyone. Even the retaliatory Hate Crimes had Joe flashing uncomfortably to the aftermath of the attacks.

He remembered more than just digging through the rubble. He remembered the face of a Sikh man, beaten to death because some ignorant yahoos hadn't even realized the poor guy wasn't a Muslim. Not that it would have mattered if he had been, but the fact just compounded the fucking _pointlessness_ of the attack. The man had had a wife and three month old twins. All three had been on a plane back to India within three days of the attack.

In those dark days, it hadn't been an isolated occurrence, either. No one had really given a shit about religion, either. People were pissed, terrified, and needed to lash out. If your skin was dark, you were fair game, end of story.

And if you actually were _known_ to be an observant Muslim? Well, good luck there because, even if you could dodge the rednecks with baseball bats and tire-irons, there was no escaping the open derision and hostility that _never_ would have been tolerated on September 10th. Three or four Muslim members of Old City's PD had gotten fed up and quit over the dirty looks and out-of-line comments.

"So what's the plan?" he asked when Will was done talking. Or maybe the shrink had just paused for breath.

"For now, damage control. Obviously my PsyD is getting a workout and I'm also handling a lot of the regular medical on the less seriously-injured victims." He sighed, looking momentarily reflective. They he shrugged and continued, "Henry's on disinformation and damage control, is deluding himself that we can still make the situation go away. Magnus bounces back and forth between taking care of the seriously injured and working with Druitt on a plan to recover Ashley."

"Recover her?" Joe asked. "So she's still alive? That's something, right?"

Will sighed. "What Ashley is right now is worse than dead, Joe. We think the Cabal did something to her. She's one of them now."

"Jesus," Joe whispered, considering the young girl he had met once or twice. "She always seemed so _nice_."

"We're pretty sure they're controlling her chemically or psychically but we're not even entirely clear on the mechanism. Blood drawn less than half an hour before her defection is negative for known drugs and for the kind of neurotransmitters that might indicate she was under some kind of psychic thrall."

He hated to say it, but homicide cops knew when it was time for the tough questions. "So there's a chance that this change of heart is genuine?"

"I hate to think it of her and, if you tell Henry I've got my doubts, I'll kill you myself. But, it's like Watson always said. When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."

"Watson? I thought it was Holmes who said that?"

"Magnus' Second in Command, James Watson was the inspiration for the literary Sherlock Holmes. He only let his name be used for the sidekick, not for Holmes himself, because he really didn't need the publicity."

Joe frowned. "Watson was the inspiration for Holmes? But he'd have to be like a hundred and fifty years old!"

Will shrugged. "He was college-buddies with Magnus. Do the math."

"Oh." Joe brushed that aside in favor of the larger picture. Immortality, after all, was something he had seen before. "So I'm assuming her switching sides puts you guys in an even more precarious situation than you were already in?"

"More than you can know," Will agreed. "When she left, she took something with her that could potentially allow the Cabal to shape human evolution any damned way they see fit."

The Detective's eyes widened. "Christ, that's…"

"Not good at all, given what we know about the lengths they're willing to go to in order to get the control they want." Will sighed and shook his head. "Which isn't really your problem, so I won't bore you with the details."

"I'm not sure I'd call any of this boring, Will. I do need to talk to the victims, but Amanda seems to want me to help you guys on any front you need, so…"

"Amanda?" Will asked, frowning blankly.

Joe nodded. "The Commissioner."

His eyes narrowed. "Your boss is named Amanda Grayson?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Never mind," Will answered, climbing to his feet. "I'll walk you downstairs."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Seth Miranda was a low-level hood. High-school dropout who always seemed to have a large supply of secondhand electronics for sale. Joe had always considered him pretty harmless as scum of the earth went. Until this morning.

He was never hard to track down but Joe waited to actually approach him until he made the mistake of trying to duck away from his pursuit. Straight into an empty, dead-end alley. Perfect.

A local guy should have known better.

Nodding and smiling bitterly, Joe followed, catching up, from the look on Seth's face, just as the guy realized he was completely hemmed in.

"You fence shit I can't prove isn't yours, there's not a lot I can do about that," Joe admitted, shrugging. "You rough up a kid who doesn't have recourse to the legal system, and we suddenly have a problem, Seth." He folded his arms over his chest. "You don't give me what I want and I'm comfortable putting a couple of bullets in each kneecap and letting that girl's family know where you live."

Seth stared at him with wide eyes. "That thing was _chick_?"

"Not just a 'chick', Seth. A _kid_. Thirteen years old," Joe clarified for him, calmly screwing a silencer onto the barrel of his gun as he spoke. "May never walk again, coincidentally."

Now Seth just looked ready to be sick.

"Funny thing about actions, Seth. They tend to have consequences. You nearly killed an innocent child yesterday. Bet it made you feel like a big man, too."

"I didn't know that thing was a kid!" he protested. "I was scared! My daughter lives on that block."

"Christy was someone's daughter, too, Seth. I met her parents so I'm not feeling particularly sympathetic right now."

He shook his head and smiled dangerously, ignoring the fact that he was engaging in behavior that cops could get away with on TV but _never_ in real life. Anyone found out about this and it was going to cost him more than his job. He could end up in prison over shit like this and former homicide cops didn't usually do well in prison.

His smile probably reflected some of the bitter irony he was feeling. He was over all kinds of lines, playing for keeps, and he wanted this punk-ass kid to know _exactly_ was the stakes were.

"Now, I am going to ask you some questions, Seth, and you're going to answer me honestly and completely. Understood?"

A frantic nod.

"Good. Let's get started…"

0101010

"Well, everyone I've talked to swears blind it's not some kind of organized conspiracy against the abnormal community," Joe assured them.

"Which would be more comforting if we didn't know that that's _exactly_ what it is," Grayson sighed. "But it is good to know that they're not organizing on street-level yet."

Magnus nodded, expression thoughtful. Will just looked relieved.

"And you're certain they were being honest?" Magnus asked, watching him thoughtfully.

"Well, since Amanda's here, I'll spare you the kind of details that would lead to an IA hissy-fit, but it's safe to say that they were… pretty well motivated to tell me the truth."

"Shit," Grayson muttered, looking like a woman who realized she had just let herself in for a butt-load of paperwork. "Just tell me you didn't actually lay hands on anyone?"

Joe shook his head. "I'm crazy, not stupid."

"Well, that's something, at least."

"And Henry got all the websites down," Will said. "They'll probably pop up again in a few hours somewhere else, but we've got about a hundred people worldwide keeping their eyes open for similar ones. The minute people start trying to Out abnormals, there's going to be a small army of White Hats on their asses."

Grayson nodded, climbing to her feet. "Keep me updated. I'll be downstairs."

Downstairs? Joe blinked but did not comment.

"Of course," Magnus agreed. "Under the circumstances, I can hardly blame you."

"Thank you for everything, Helen," she answered. "Doctor Zimmerman. Joe." She nodded to each in turn before leaving the room.

Joe glanced at Will. "At the risk of sounding like a complete outsider, 'White Hats'?"

"Sorry. Too much time with Henry lately," Will told him with a sheepish smile. "A White Hat is an ethical hacker."

"An _ethical_ hacker?" Joe repeated dubiously.

"A specialization in which Henry is NSA-certified," Magnus told him. "Ethical hackers break into the computer systems of companies and government for the express purpose of finding bugs and backdoors that allow malicious hackers access. Once you know about them, you can fix them before anyone else realizes they're there and exploits them for malicious ends."

"Oh. Well, I'm going to go see if I can get anything else from the victims," Joe lied.

"Okay, Joe," Will answered. "Keep me updated."

"You've got it. Helen."

She smiled absently at him, a look that didn't reach her eyes. "Good day, Joe. Thank you for everything. Will, did you get John's report?"

"Yeah, and I'm inclined to agree with him about the Gobi facility from what I've seen," Will was answering as Joe left the office.

Joe wasn't sure what a Chinese desert had to do with anything and he was less sure he cared. What did a Police Commissioner need in an infirmary designed to treat abnormals? He followed the sound of her flats on the marble floor from a safe distance. If she knew she was being followed, she gave no indication, didn't try to change direction or shake him off. In fact, she walked like a woman in a trance, as if lost in her own world.

She passed through the infirmary proper into what Will had told him in his initial tour of the Sanctuary was the ICU. Joe hesitated for a moment before following.

"It's okay, Kev. Doc Helen will take good care of you, just like she always has," Grayson was saying.

He ducked in, expecting to find Commissioner Grayson with a friend or lover. Instead, the woman was bent over the bed of a boy of perhaps ten, his features leonine. Her head shot up, expression momentarily defensive. Then she shrugged and returned her attention to the unconscious boy's face.

"My son, Kevin."

_Jesus… _

Everyone in the department knew she had a kid. Mentally ill or something and kept from public view according to rumor. Most of her neighbors didn't even know the boy existed. All kinds of nasty stories circulated about the lengths she went through to keep him secret from the world at large. They were behind most of her reputation as a cold-ass bitch…

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

"Like the abnormals, Joe, I know what it means to have the world at large assume you're something you're not." She bent and pressed her lips to the boy's forehead. "Mama will be back tonight, sweetheart," she whispered. "And Daddy says he'll drop in after work, too." Then she squared her shoulders and crossed the room to Joe. "I love my son, Detective. Always have; always will. And I'll never be anything but proud of him."

Joe glanced past her to the boy who, in spite of the predatory features, looked young and vulnerable and precious the way only a small child _could_.

"His father was an abnormal?"

She shook her head. "David and I are both normal humans. But, in my first trimester, on an investigation, I was unwittingly exposed to a teratological agent. Kevin started to mutate rather rapidly. I would have lost the pregnancy, but a sympathetic OB sent me Helen's way. He'll never look like one of us," she added, turning and kissing her son again, "but he's still a blessing."

"And he was one of the ones the website you mentioned Outted?"

God, no wonder she'd been worried the violence was organized. The son of a Police Commissioner was, as examples went, a _huge_ one.

"Mmm," she agreed, running her fingers though the boy's mane-like tangle. "It can only have been a past babysitter. The Sanctuary screens its associates carefully, of course, and I always used babysitters recommended by them. But even those who know and understand sometimes change their minds. And, when they do, atrocities like this are allowed to occur."

"Is he going to make it?"

"Don't know yet." She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. "He's got some brain-trauma."

He took a step towards her. "Amanda, I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Doesn't matter. Personal involvement shouldn't impact your approach to the case at hand."

"Shouldn't but always _does_," he countered.

"He's my son, but you didn't even know he existed five minutes ago," she told him. "Don't let it get to you that this time it was a cop's kid. Just do what you always do and close the damned case."

He studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "You've got it. Total detachment, Amanda." He turned to go.

"Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"If your investigation into these crimes points you to the people who did this to my son, I do _not_ want to know about it."

He frowned at her.

"Life in a maximum security prison would not be pleasant for a former Commissioner of Police," she explained simply, stepping past him and striding from the infirmary.

Joe stared after her, shaking his head. If it had been his kid, he'd have wanted blood, too. He moved closer to the bed, staring down at the unconscious boy. He didn't appear remotely human but, unlike the other victims Joe had seen, he didn't look remotely dangerous or intimidating, either. The other attacks might have been about fear, but this one had been about _hate_, plain and simple.

"Different from the other victims," Will said from the door, echoing Joe's thoughts.

"You weren't going to tell me."

"Members of the Sanctuary don't go around Outing abnormals. If Amanda had wanted you to know, you would have known."

"Got other secrets from me?"

"Of course we do, Joe." Will shrugged.

"What's going down in the Gobi?"

"The Cabal's version of Gitmo. Our people think that, if we're going to find Ashley, we're going to find her there."

"Ah." He nodded. "Good luck with that."

"Thanks, man. We're going to need every ounce."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"I think we've compromised you enough already, Joe," Will answered with a sigh, absently rubbing the back of his neck. "Besides, right now, these victims need to know the cops are in their corner, especially if those cops are typicals. This could still deteriorate into a Race War so the appearance of sympathy by the Establishment for the victims is _vital_."

"It's more than an appearance, Will. I broke the law today, went against every code I swore to live by. If that doesn't say enough about where my sympathies lie…"

"Your sympathies and the Commissioner's aren't in question, Joe. Not to me or Magnus. But what's important is how the victims perceive your involvement, intention, motives, and attitudes. And which of their impressions they convey back to the rest of the abnormal community."

"Point taken," Joe answered, nodding. "But if you _do_ need anything…"

"I appreciate that, Joe," Will assured him.

"Oh, William, there you are," a tall, bald man with a scar on his face said, approaching them. He was lanky, powerful-looking, but he also looked tired and somehow _diminished_. "You got my report?"

"Yeah, Druitt, and I was going to come to your office to discuss it in a minute, but I needed to take care of one thing down here first."

He nodded and regarded Joe searchingly. "Who's your friend, William?"

"Detective Joe Kavanaugh. Joe, this is John Druitt, an old friend of Magnus'."

The bald man smiled and gave Joe a half-bow. "I've heard all about you, Detective, and I must say it's always a pleasure to meet someone who's worked so hard to make Helen's life easier."

He offered his hand, which Joe shook readily, startled by the strength of his grip.

"Good to meet you, Mr. Druitt."

"Please, call me John. Only young William here insists on standing on formality," he told Joe with a tolerant grin in the shrink's direction. "And, on that note, I'm afraid I must steal him away from you. I have plans for the boy."

Druitt's smile was almost a leer and Will shifted uneasily in response to it, which made Joe wonder. To the best of Joe's knowledge, Will dated women exclusively, but he'd never batted an eyelash when men flirted with him, which wasn't entirely uncommon. His looks were boyish and some men liked that. Squirming because another man was leering at him implied something else entirely and, from the look on Will's face and the way Druitt immediately backed down with a mumbled apology, that 'something' wasn't remotely pleasant.

"We really do have a great deal to discuss, William," Druitt informed him quietly. "I'd very much like to see my daughter again. I have a lot of lost time to make up for."

Will nodded, slipping seamlessly back into calm professionalism.

"Joe, you have my number if you need anything at all or have any questions. I'm your contact, not Magnus. If you can't reach me…" He trailed off, hesitating.

"If William is unavailable, you can contact me, Detective," Druitt informed him, handing him a business card that was blank except for two phone numbers. "Unlike William, I do not have patients and I do not require much sleep. If I don't answer either of those numbers within half an hour of you calling them, the odds are good that I'm dead."

"Cheerful," Joe muttered, pocketing the card. "Thanks, man."

"My pleasure. Be in touch if you require anything at all." He inclined his head to Joe, then glanced down at Will. "William?"

"Yeah, Druitt, let's go. See you around, Joe."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Will flipped through the satellite readouts again, more to have something to do with his hands than because he needed another look at the images.

"Yeah, this looks more like a detention center that a training camp to me, too," he told Druitt. "Whether it's where they're keeping Ashley--"

"Depends largely on how they made her switch sides and whether that conditioning seems to be holding. And, of course, on exactly _how_ cooperative she's being."

"I think we have to accept that the best case scenario is probably that she's told them everything she knows about us. Tesla's been helping Henry completely overhaul our security system on that assumption. She knows Henry and how he thinks, but…"

"But Nikola remains an unknown quantity." Druitt nodded, letting out that irritated growl that always accompanied him being forced to acknowledge that Tesla was, for the time being at least, an ally.

"Look, Druitt, I know he's a disgusting piece of shit," Will began.

"Hush," he interrupted before he could continue. "Nikola is nothing if not brilliant and his… _affection_ for Helen means he'll do what he can to assist the Sanctuary for the time being. Put aside your personal distaste for him and focus on the greater good."

"Easy for you to say," he answered sullenly.

"Do you think so?" Druitt challenged, his voice low and eerily calm. "Would you like to see my scars, William? The ones Nikola gave me? Perhaps you'd like to hear the words he used to taunt me for all those weeks? Or to know what it feels like to be repeatedly electrocuted?" He shook his head, still seeming perfectly composed. "No one has as many reasons to hate Nikola as I do but, under the circumstances, I am more than happy to put that aside for the time being."

"Sorry. I, uh… if we work with evil people, how are we any different from the Cabal?" He shook his head. "Never mind. Don't answer that."

"We both know there is no good answer to that, son." He shook his head. "If I ask you a question, will you answer it honestly?"

"Depends on the question."

"You're using more than caffeine to stay awake and alert, aren't you?"

Will hesitated. It wasn't really Druitt's business what he was on med-wise and Magnus could be counted on not to tell him. But, if Druitt went to Magnus with concerns that Will was taking more stimulants than were healthy, she might decide to take a closer look at his intake.

"Magnus prescribed me some modafinil. It's perfectly safe, used by shift workers and the military…"

He frowned. "But that and the caffeine are it?"

"Yes," Will answered, not bothering to add 'for now' since he didn't need Druitt telling tales to Magnus. If he had Adderall standing by, just in case, that was his business, not theirs. "That's all I'm on, Druitt. Scout's honor."

"You remind me of James in many ways, so I feel it only proper to extend you this warning: stimulants will consume your life if you don't watch your intake. They started solely as a way to allow him to do his job better but I imagine you've read enough Sherlock Holmes to know how _that_ turned out."

Will sighed and nodded. "I know, nasty addiction and he eventually had to be detoxed in what was, presumably, such a terrible few weeks that it was only ever alluded to in the stories. I'm not going to go down that road but, right now, Magnus and Henry have a ridiculous amount on their plates and they're more than a little unhinged by losing Ashley. For the time being, I need to be the collected one."

"Fair enough, I suppose," he murmured, expression reflective.

Will drummed his fingers on the desk, one at a time in sequence, three or four times to diffuse a little of his nervous energy before he spoke again.

"I talked to Clara and she'll be happy to scope out the facility if you give her a ride," he told Druitt. "I think she's starting to really enjoy the wonderful world of espionage."

Druitt smiled fondly. "She's an interesting young woman; there's real potential in her now that she's over her initial shock at this world. I gave her a book on the kunoichi to read."

"Kunoichi?"

"Female ninjas who specialized equally in evasion, disguise and the use of their feminine wiles. Young Clara was _most_ taken with the idea."

"The two of you make a hell of a team," Will answered, smiling. "Didn't know you were interested in Japanese culture."

"Not particularly, but I've always felt a special affinity for people capable of seeming to vanish off the face of the Earth," he told Will with a faint smile. "And I'll thank you not to try to profile me based upon that admission."

"I understand and I won't," he assured him, holding up both hands.

He ignored it when splaying his fingers gave him the urge to drum them on the desk again. No way was he about to start tweaking in front of Druitt one minute after being asked about his use of stimulants.

"Thank you," the other man said. "Rest assured that, should I decide I need the services of a psychiatrist, you will be the first to know."

Will nodded. "So I should tell Clara that you're Go for checking the facility?"

"Absolutely," he agreed. "Have her find me and we'll set up the details."

"Thanks, Druitt." Will climbed to his feet, turning to leave the office.

"William?"

"Yeah?"

"You may find, son, that sometimes a few hours of sleep have a stronger effect on your ability to reason than drugs designed to bypass the process. Think about it."

"Will do," he promised. After all, thinking about slowing down wasn't the same as actually _doing_ it.

0101010

Joe heard a decidedly inhuman yelp as he headed for Henry's lab. Not that 'inhuman' meant it hadn't come from a person. Not around here. He picked up his pace, turning the corner into Henry's lab to find the man shaking his hand wildly as if he'd burned or shocked it. Probably shocked, judging from the open server tower he was working on.

"You okay there?"

Henry looked up at him, yellow eyes sweeping over his form in a manner than was more than a little unsettling. Horrified, Joe cleared his throat and took a slow step backwards, spreading his hands. Henry frowned blankly for a moment, then his eyes shifted back to their usual pale blue. He shook his head, expression apologetic.

"Sorry, man. Easier to make sure none of the blades are overheating if I use the other eyes," he explained with a yawn.

"You okay?" Joe asked, frowning at him. "You don't look great."

"Maybe it's my time of the month?" he scoffed. "Just busy, man. It's been seriously crazy here. Have you touched base with Will or Magnus lately?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "I heard about Ashley. I'm sorry, Henry. She seemed…"

"She was," Henry answered shortly, shaking his head. "Not her fault what happened so just drop it, man."

"Sorry." Joe held up both hands. "Can't be easy for you."

"Not easy for any of us," Henry answered with a shrug, roughly jerking a blade out of the server tower and tossing it aside. "We make due, same as we always have."

He picked up another blade and shoved it into the new slot with more force than was probably recommended.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Find a bitch named Dana Whitcomb and give her a double-tap between the eyes?" he countered, voice hard.

Joe's eyes widened at that.

"Sorry, man," Henry sighed, shaking his head. "She's just… Never mind. Everything is crazy right now. None of it makes sense."

"I get that a lot's gone down," he began. "If any of you need anything at all, let me know."

"You have your own worries," he answered. "You don't need ours, too."

"Yeah, but--"

"No," Henry interrupted, shaking his head. "This isn't your war, man. You don't want to make an enemy of those people. Just do your job and, end of the day, go home and pretend we don't exist. It's not just safer for you. It's safer for everyone you've ever cared about."

"They're that hardcore?"

"Nah. They're _worse_."

"Jesus."

"Yeah." Henry nods. "Did you need anything, Joe, because nothing personal but I've got enough work for about three people piled up that all needs to be done yesterday if not sooner."

Joe blinked. It was the closest he'd ever heard Henry to being abrupt. "Right. I'll get out of your hair."

"Thanks, man," Henry answered, returning his attention to the server tower.

"You picked a bad time to bother him," a quiet voice noted as Joe returned to the corridor.

"Yeah, obviously," he agreed, turning around.

He jumped because he found himself face to face with a seven foot tall lizard-man. Which became considerably less intimidating when he took note of the coffee mug and terrycloth bathrobe. The lizard-man gave him a toothy grin.

"Ssssteve," he introduced himself, offering his free hand. "I help Helen out in the infirmary."

Joe hesitated for a moment before shaking. "Uh, nice to meet you, Steve."

"Joe Kavanaugh, right? Will'ss buddy?"

"We used to work together, yeah."

"You do again," Steve pointed out with a growled chuckle.

"So it would seem. Uh, all of this?" he began, not sure what he was really getting at.

"Bad timessss." Steve shook his head. "People are afraid. Walk with me," he suggested. "Henry doesssn't need the dissstraction of people talking nearby."

"Right," Joe answered, falling into step beside the lizard-man. "So…"

"Will told you what hass happened?"

"Big nasty bioweapon, psychosis followed by death." Joe nodded. "Now people are attacking anyone they even _suspect_ of being an abnormal."

"Mmm." Steve nodded. "Complete nightmare. People who only want to be left alone and they can't even have that anymore."

"That's always a terrible situation. Will said you're adopting a kind of bunker mentality?"

"We've had to. Not everyone wasss able to go into hiding in time. They're all here until we can find them new placcccessss."

"He mentioned some names I hadn't heard before in connection with the Sanctuary. Someone called Druitt and a guy named Tesla? Doesn't seem to have a lot of faith in either one."

Steve considered for a moment. "They've known Helen for a long time. They can be relied on for now."

"For now?"

"Nothing iss forever," he pointed out with a shrug. "Even affection. But, while the Cabal iss a threat, helping Helen will remain in their besssst interesssst."

"That's not exactly a ringing endorsement, there."

"One iss detesssstable. The other iss John Druitt."

Joe frowned blankly.

"Google that name," Steve suggested, shaking his head and taking a sip of his coffee. "Do you want any?" he offered. "You look like you could do with a cup and there'ss alwaysss a pot in every kitchen."

"How many kitchens are there in this place?" he asked, having only seen the one.

"One large one and many ssmall 'family' oness. More homey. Helen consssiderss it important for our mental health that we feel like we are in a home, not a hossspital. Esspecccially in ssuch timess."

"Because suddenly people have less of a choice about staying here?"

"Mmm," he agreed, expression surprisingly pensive for a giant lizard.

"Is that a problem?"

"Many abnormalss are born to be free. Wallsss don't agree with all of uss."

"People get stir-crazy and the situation in here could turn as bad as the one out there."

"We know. We can handle it," Steve assured him.

"If you're sure." Joe handed him a business card. "Just in case that changes."

Steve nodded and studied the card for a moment before tucking it into a pocket. "I'll call if anything changess," he told Joe before turning and wandering off, humming to himself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"No, no, don't apologize," Magnus murmured into the phone, shaking her head. "It was never more than an off chance. Thank your operatives for me and, as always, keep me updated, Carlos." She listened for a moment, murmured agreement and hung up. She looked up at him. "Come in, John. What can I do for you?"

"I'll be bringing Clara to the Gobi facility in a short while," he answered, stepping into the office. "Who was on the phone?"

"Doctor Ramirez of my Mexico City branch. He thought he might have a line on a Cabal facility but it was just another drug lab." She sighed and gestured for him to have a seat.

"On the subject of drugs," he began slowly, sitting down.

She raised an eyebrow. "John?"

"Young William seems rather agitated. He mentioned he was taking something. Began with an m, I believe."

"Modafinil," she confirmed, nodding. "Don't worry; I'm monitoring his usage closely. Given his other meds, I _have_ to."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is he safe?"

"Safer than he would be if I weren't monitoring him," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and pushing down the memory of the rather loud argument she'd had with Will the other day. "He's a big boy and a competent enough physician. He's well aware of the risks and he considers them acceptable."

"Are they?"

"For now, but have no doubt that I _will_ restrain him should it become necessary."

"Of course you will, Helen. Forgive me." He inclined his head. "And how goes the rest of the war effort?"

"The Cabal's being fairly inactive for the time being. I imagine most of their attentions are focused on understanding the Source."

"Or they're planning another offensive."

She scoffed. "The Source was their goal, John. We're no threat to them any longer. We never were in the first place."

"Helen, can I…" he began, extending his hand across the desk. "I need to help you."

"And you are, John, by focusing your efforts on recovering our daughter. I have been running this organization for a long time now. I know what I'm doing and I have no time to train an amateur in these matters. You'd be more hindrance than help at my job." Cringing at his hurt look, she added, "Whereas you are proving _invaluable_ in expanding our knowledge of Cabal facilities and operations worldwide."

He sighed but nodded, looking mollified. "I just never thought to see you depending on a _boy_ the way you once did on James."

"Don't let his looks fool you. Will's done a great deal of living in his thirty-three years."

"He'd have to or he'd hold no appeal for you."

She frowned faintly. Druitt had yet to express anything resembling jealousy but she was starting to wonder what he thought the nature of her attachment to Will was. It wasn't uncomfortable that he might assume that of them; he would hardly be the first. But, at the same time, she didn't like people to underestimate Will's importance to her and her mission. Or his potential.

"He's clever," she tried to justify herself. "He can be the next James with work."

He raised an eyebrow. "You really believe that?"

"James and I discussed the matter at great length. We were quite agreed. Will has more raw potential than James did prior to taking the Source."

"Hmmm," he mused, steepling his fingers. "Then why not deliver him into James' hands for training?"

"They're too similar. I may wish to see him develop gifts similar to those James possessed, but that doesn't mean I ever wished him to acquire James' flaws."

"Such as the over-use of stimulants."

"Leave it, John," she answered shortly, shaking her head. "These are difficult times. His behavior now doesn't automatically foreshadow his behavior once the situation has been retrieved."

"Not any more than James' use of cocaine during the murders foreshadowed his continued indulgence afterwards," he answered with that smooth insolence of his.

Magnus shook her head. "You go too far, John. Collect Clara, be on your way, and report to me for brain imaging once you've returned."

"Helen…"

"_No_." She shook her head. "This conversation is over. Go and have it done with."

He looked irritated and more than a little concerned, but she turned her attention to her computer and kept it there until he retreated. Will's similarities to James were hardly lost on her. They could make him invaluable. They could also be his undoing. Yet she facilitated him in behavior she would have protested in anyone else. Because, as she had known James, as she had come to know Will, she knew that if she did not give him the stimulants he sought, he would find them elsewhere.

And then she would no longer be in a position to protect him from himself.

0101010

Will ignored the hand on his chest, staring at the medical files on the computer and earning an irritated sigh from the woman leaning over him from behind.

"You know, most guys _like_ getting groped by their girlfriends," Clara pointed out, removing her hand and straightening.

"I'm on the clock," he answered, shaking his head. "I need to focus here, Clara."

"Will, we'll get your friend back," she told him gently. "John and I are on the case."

"And it's one case of about twenty that the Sanctuary's dealing with, most of which have fallen squarely into my lap. So why don't you and Druitt handle the Mission Impossible stuff and let me handle the Criminal Minds end."

She sighed again, moving to sit on the edge of his desk. "When's the last time you slept?"

"Don't know," he answered, shrugging and leaning around her to retrieve a file. "Probably before the Cabal made war on my family."

"You're going to run yourself into the ground if you don't stop this."

"Not if we get the situation resolved quickly enough."

"Will," she began.

"I don't have time for this, Clara." He shook his head. "You need to wrap your brain around the _scope_ of this thing. It's not just the people you've met here. It's not just the hundreds of abnormals running around Old City. It's not just the hundreds of thousands of abnormals all over the world. This is the future of the human species up for grabs here. No one with a conscience can recognize that and opt to take it easy instead of giving a hundred and ten percent."

She folded her arms over her chest, scowling. "Are you saying I--"

"No!" He shook his head, annoyed and telling himself firmly that was just from the modafinil. "You've been working as hard as any of us, pushing your ability to its limits, probably past what you used to believe you were even _capable_ of, and you're doing it every day. I respect that and I'm grateful to you for it. But the fact that you're pushing yourself that hard means you aren't in a position to tell anyone else to _not_ push themselves. This will eventually be over. Until it is, we all owe everything we've got and just a little bit more besides."

"You're going to kill yourself."

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

"I know the meds are prescription and everything, but you're starting to remind me of an addict, Will…"

"Then feel free to stop hanging out with me. Wouldn't want my bad habits rubbing off."

"That's not fair!"

"Weren't you supposed to be playing ninja this afternoon anyway?"

"Will!" she protested, shaking her head.

"I don't have time, Clara. I've got eight million things to do that I can't trust to anyone else. Making nice-nice with my girlfriend isn't high on that list. Sorry."

She made a frustrated noise and spun on her heel. Will knew he could have stopped her and they would have been good again then and there. But the simple truth was that he could be contrite _any_ time and a woman that desperate for acceptance would pretend nothing had happened, so he let her go and got back to work.

He heard her talking in the hallway, took a moment to identify the other voice as belonging to Druitt, and breathed a sigh of relief. Clara always got amped over field engagements. By the time she was ready for extraction, she wouldn't even remember they'd argued.

Druitt, on the other hand…

0101010

"Hey, boss, you get my email?" Henry asked, leaning into her office.

"Yes, yes." Magnus nodded, climbing to her feet. "I was just about to respond. How much did you need?"

"Twenty-five, thirty Gs to start."

She raised an eyebrow. "That's _all_?"

"Given the situation, pretty much everyone's offering goods and services at a discount, even in parts of the world that haven't been impacted by this yet."

"That steep a discount implies material and manpower from less than legitimate sources."

"I know we don't normally take help from warlords and cartels…" he began, trailing off when she held up one hand.

"Given how deeply embedded into various governments, militaries, and industries the Cabal would appear to be, we can no longer afford to rely exclusively on our traditional channels, Henry. If you trust the judgment of your contacts, I do. Make it clear that this in no way constitutes a permanent arrangement but, for the time being, we'll take help where we can find it."

He hesitated, then nodded, stylus flying across the screen of his computer tablet. "My contacts in Columbia can start getting Intel back to us by evening. I'll have to get back to you on time-frames for Africa and Indonesia."

She nodded. "Tell them all, please, no unnecessary violence and, the lower a profile, the better."

"They know." Henry started to leave, then turned back. "You holding up okay?" he asked hesitantly.

"As well as any of us, I suppose," he murmured. "And you? I know I haven't been precisely accessible, but…"

"We've all been busy," he answered, waving a dismissive hand. "Will keeps asking if I want to talk, how I'm handling everything, if the meds are working."

"And _are_ they?"

"Guess." He shrugged, staring down at his computer tablet.

"Henry, look at me," she directed, moving closer. She caught his chin lightly in one hand, forcing him to look at her. "Nightmares?" she prompted because Will had warned her it was likely.

"Not bad ones." At her look, he shrugged defensively. "I'm honestly too damned tired most nights to dream at all. And Will gave me those pills for when I do."

She nodded acceptance. "Just remember that Will and I are here for you, no matter the hour. We both love you very much, Henry."

"And Will and I love you," he agreed, eyes not quite meeting hers. "If you ever need anything, you know where to find us. And I know Will's a shrink and all, but I want to be here, too, if you need."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "You've comported yourself wonderfully these past weeks, Henry. I need you to understand that, even when I forget to say so. You've done so much for us, for _me_." Biting back a smile at his hopeful look, she told him, "I'm proud of you. You've risen to this occasion wonderfully."

He smiled, eyes suddenly swimming. "Thanks, doc. But I should get back to work now."

"You do that, Henry. And remember that your family is here for you should you need us."

"Don't you forget, either," he answered, clearing his throat and hurrying from the office.

Feeling tired, _empty_, Magnus returned to her desk. As Will had so blithely started to put it, there was no longer any rest for the wicked.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"How exactly are we going to handle bringing the attackers to justice?" Joe asked.

Will let out an irritated-sounding sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "There's not a lot we _can_ do. We can't do much to private citizens when we can't produce the victims in court." He shrugged. "I mean, conceivably with some of our connections, it wouldn't be hard to frame false charges and make them stick, but that's never been how we roll, either."

"So they just get away with it?" Joe demanded, stunned.

"Yeah, Joe!" Will snapped, shaking his head. "They just get away with it, same as the Cabal's probably going to get away with what _they_ did! Even if we had the resources, we don't have the time and we have friends who could help, but we don't need to be sucking them into a planetary Shadow War or asking them to potentially compromise their careers."

"Then what was point of involving the cops in the first place?"

"Impression management," Will informed him flatly. "If the abnormals don't believe that the authorities actually give a shit, we could be looking at a wide-scale breach between us and the abnormals."

"'Us' like regular humans or 'us' like the Sanctuary?"

"Joe, man, you need to wrap your brain around the fact that the Sanctuary isn't your enemy. It's true that we protect abnormals from humans but that works both ways, too. If abnormals are dangerous to humans, we stop them; you've seen that first hand. _And_, by largely keeping them from public attention and preventing Hate Crimes like we've been seeing here, we're preventing the kind of retaliation that could lead to all-out war."

"You really think it would come to that?"

"I think that, if you consistently deny _any_ group its civil rights, they're eventually going to try to claim them by force. I also think, given the abilities some abnormals possess, that kind of thing would get ugly fast."

"Define ugly."

Will opened his mouth to answer and then shut it again, looking past Joe. Joe turned around to see Druitt standing in the doorway.

"I've been doing this considerably longer than young William and so may be in a better position to clarify," the scarred man told Joe, stepping inside.

He took a moment to regard Will searchingly, then turned his full attention to Joe, which was unsettling for no good reason the cop could place. He didn't walk into the room; he _prowled_ in, grabbing one of the oversized armchairs that Will used for therapy and carrying it over to Will's desk. In one hand, which must have taken a lot of strength; like everything else in the Sanctuary, the chair was ornate and _very_ substantial. He dropped it in front of Will's desk with a thud that made it clear the thing was at least as heavy as it sounded, then he sank into it, eying Joe.

"Consider some of the abilities you can find searching no farther than these walls," he told Joe. "I'm a teleporter. I can carry myself and numerous other individuals anywhere on the planet, indoors or out, in the blink of an eye. Now, take my friend Nikola who can channel and manipulate electricity to such a degree that he could completely neutralize several square blocks of the city's power-grid without particular exertion. Or young Clara who can turn invisible at will. A patient of William's who can ignite fires with her mind. An individual who can read thoughts. One who can manipulate emotions. It does not take a man of the good doctor's deductive abilities to see how destructive even such a small group of abnormals, working in concert, could be.

"Now consider a much larger group, with more diverse and impressive powers, fueled by anger and hatred instead of the simple need to protect their own. Nor would all be strictly human. Sirens, lizard-folk, assorted other man-beasts. Human or above-human in intelligence but capable of eviscerating or even dismembering an individual with only their hands and teeth. The damage and chaos this second group can cause is exponentially greater even before public confusion and panic are factored into the equation. Now consider such groups arising and moving against the human population all over the world."

"Ugly," Will repeated, giving Joe a meaningful look.

"Point taken," he sighed, nodding and climbing to his feet. "I suppose you two have a lot of work to do. I won't keep you."

"I'll be in touch, Joe," Will told him.

"And you have my card if anything comes up," Druitt added, climbing to his feet as well. "It was good to see you again, Detective. I'll see you to the door."

Since the two obviously had things that they needed to discuss, Joe let himself be led. It did not stop him from listening at the closed door.

"You inserted her?" Will asked.

"I did, but I couldn't help but notice how very perturbed she seemed."

"Don't start, Druitt! Give _your_ history with women--"

"How dare you!" Druitt snarled, cutting him off. "You leave my past actions out of this!"

Joe withdrew then; he didn't need to eavesdrop on an argument over a woman. But Druitt's vehemence that Will not mention his past reminded Joe of what Steve had said. Curious, he left that wing of the Sanctuary for one where he might actually be able to get cell service. Once he had bars, he dialed the precinct.

"Caroline, it's Joe Kavanaugh."

"Oh, hey, Joe!" the girl on the other end answered brightly. "Long time no talk. What can I do for you?"

"I need you to run a name," he told her, smiling when he heard an affected yawn. "John Druitt, two t's."

"I'll run it but it's probably an alias," she told him. "Fan of the original, no doubt."

Joe frowned. "The original?"

"MJ Druitt, Joe," she laughed.

"Huh?"

"What do they teach cops these days? He was a suspect in the Ripper killings."

Joe felt his eyes widening. "The…"

"Jack the Ripper, Joe. Honestly. British serial killer in the late 1800s?" she clarified. "Maybe you've heard of him in passing?"

"Just in passing," he whispered. "Let me know what you find on this Druitt guy."

"Will do," she agreed, hanging up.

He could have dismissed it as a coincidence, except for two things. When Joe become aware of the Sanctuary and its mission, Will had laughingly informed him that Magnus was a little older than she looked. And, yesterday, he'd casually mentioned that one of her friends was the inspiration for the literary Sherlock Holmes.

Which meant that the presence of guys here named Nikola Tesla and John Druitt were unlikely to be coincidences…

0101010

"Mr. Tesla?" Joe asked, leaning into the lab.

A slim, dark-haired man in a labcoat was bent over a workbench, his back to the door. "Who wants to know?" he asked in a bored voice, a shower of sparks arcing up over his shoulder as he worked.

"Detective Joe Kavanaugh, friend of Will's."

He did look up then, putting aside what looked like a taser and turning to face Joe, an intrigued expression on his face. His looks were unexceptional except for hair that looked like he'd recently taken live voltage.

"A _cop_?" he drawled, leaning back against his workbench and eying Joe speculatively. "What an interesting development."

He narrowed his eyes. "How so?"

"The last time I saw Helen before the current unpleasantness, she wouldn't have let a law enforcement official inside the main gate, let alone into the inner recesses of one of her Sanctuaries." His smile turned into a smirk. "And on account of the boy, no less. Curiouser and curiouser."

Joe wasn't sure exactly what Tesla was implying but, from his expression, it was fairly inappropriate.

"Case I was working intersected this world. They didn't have a choice but to bring me in."

"There was a time that wouldn't have stopped them from keeping you in the dark." He gave Joe a toothy grin, eyes calculating. "He _has_ changed her."

His expression grew abstracted and Joe could see the wheels turning in his head as he considered the implications of that idea. Which was unsettling given Steve's contention that this guy was scum and Will's doubt as to whether he'd stay loyal to the Sanctuary if things got bad.

"Can I ask you something?" Joe asked.

"I believe you just did." Inclining his head, he added, "But I don't suppose one more could hurt."

"Can't help but notice there are people here _way_ older than they look, Magnus and then Will mentioned this Watson guy…"

The smile faded, replaced by a slightly pained expression.

"Will said he didn't make it. I'm sorry."

"Yes, well, trust James to find a way to make himself a martyr to Helen's cause," he answered, giving himself a shake and sneering. "If he had to die, that's how he would have wished it to happen. But I gather your question isn't about Helen or James."

"No, it's not. It's… well, it's about you."

The toothy grin was back, this time accompanied by sparkling eyes and a delighted expression. "And no one told you, Detective? I can see why Helen likes you; you're clever."

"_The_ Nikola Tesla?" He laughed and shook his head. "Damn. This place is a real Who's Who, isn't it?"

"Helen attracts greatness," Tesla answered placidly.

"It's a real honor to meet you."

He smirked. "That's what they all say."

"I'll bet! Damn." He shook his head. "Can I ask--"

"Pigeons are simply less complex than humans," he interrupted, expression tight. "I dislike germs but no more than the next man. The majority of my so-called eccentricities were affected by me to keep anyone from digging too deeply into my personal life. Immortality has its down-side; privacy is vital."

"Sorry. You probably get that every time."

"I do," he agreed. "And it never gets any less old."

"Right. I'll just shut up, then."

Tesla gave a murmur of assent and returned his attention to the taser.

"So, what is that?"

The scientist raised an eyebrow. "It's called a taser. I'd assumed a man in law enforcement would be familiar with them."

"I assumed, you being the greatest inventor in history, there might be more to it than meets the eye," he clarified, frowning.

"I'm modulating the frequency so it prevents memory encoding. An idea of young Henry's. He's clever enough but lacking on the practical end in these matters."

"He always seemed more than competent to me."

"He manages but his true talents lie elsewhere."

Another shower of sparks left the taser, arcing several feet in the air.

"How are you making it do that?" Joe asked. "Tasers don't spark like that."

"No," he agreed, smirking and putting it down. Lifting his empty hand in the air, he added smoothly, "But _I_ do."

Joe jumped backwards as a stream of sparks rained from Tesla's fingertips.

"How the _hell_?" he whispered, staring with wide eyes.

Tesla smiled. "Didn't you know? I was born during the most powerful electric storm that region of Croatia had seen in centuries…"

"Right." Joe nodded slowly. "Well, thanks for your time. I'll let you get back to work."

He inclined his head and then returned his attention to the modified taser. "Good day, Detective."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Joe found Druitt in an office that, from the lack of personal touches, almost certainly wasn't his own, pouring over files. The man still looked like death warmed over but, suddenly, that wasn't all Joe was seeing in him. He tapped lightly on the doorframe.

Druitt looked up with a tired smile. "Do come in, Detective. How can I be of service?"

He hesitated, then shrugged. Will said 'great when not brain-damaged' so…

"This is going to sound strange, Mr. Druitt," he began.

"John is fine. It's what all my friends call me."

"John," Joe repeated, nodding. "It's actually kind of about that. John wouldn't be your _middle_ name, would it?"

Druitt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he looked up at Joe, his smile was wry and self-deprecating. "It's times like this when I _loathe_ the internet."

His eyes widened. "You mean you are…"

"Montague John Druitt, aka 'Jack the Ripper', at your service, Detective." He sighed again, looking mildly irritated. "For the record, I did _not_ assign myself that ridiculous nickname. You look as if you're feeling poorly. Have a seat and I'll try to explain."

Joe did sit down, mostly because he didn't think he could have remained standing. He didn't want to listen to a _word_ one of history's most notorious serial killers had to say but, once Druitt began to explain the biological ramifications of frequent teleportation, the havoc those changes wreaked on your mind, he was hooked.

Nor were the initial psychosis and murder all he had to talk about. Druitt's 'cure', while painful to hear spelled out in no uncertain terms, was pretty damned amazing.

He frowned, trying to make sense of what Druitt had to tell him. It was so amazing it was hard to accept even if Druitt did seem to be being perfectly straightforward.

"So let me get this straight. You used to be Jack the Ripper, but you're _better_ now, because you were tortured by Nikola Tesla, the inventor, who just so happens to also be a _vampire_?" he asked, wondering when he had bought into the ideas the Sanctuary forced him to accept so completely that things like that stopped sounding absurd. Hell, he'd seen the electricity thing firsthand. Why not vampirism?

Druitt smiled apologetically, nodding. "That about sums it up, Detective, yes."

"Jesus wept."

"Yes." Druitt's expression turned grim. "That _also_ sums it up."

"And Ashley's your daughter?"

"Strange as it seems since it's been more than 125 years since I laid a hand on her mother, _yes_." He nodded, looking troubled and picking up a file-folder from those scattered across the desk.

"Ego formation?" Joe read off the tab on the folder. Others bore labels such as 'Perry/cognition', 'Paiget/development', 'attachment', 'nature/nurture', 'social contract'. "You're a _psychologist_?"

Jack the Ripper was a shrink? Interesting.

"No, not remotely, but I've always had an interest in developmental issues. At present, I'm hoping I may be able to assist William somehow with regards to Ashley's reeducation by the Cabal." He closed his eyes for a moment, then smiled up at Joe. "You see, I'm frequently remembered by history as a barrister and not a very good one at that. Fewer people know that I was also a schoolteacher, which was my _real_ passion in life. Hardly suited to my social standing, but I never cared. I quite enjoy the company of children, if only because they're easier to understand and predict."

Jack the Ripper, lover of small children? Freaky. And disturbing given the access that job would have given him to kids.

"Did you ever, uh…"

Druitt's face reflected obvious distaste. "Good heavens, no!" He shook his head, expression adamant. "Children are straightforward, innocent, and therefore to be admired and protected. Helen and I always planned on having a half-score underfoot some day," he added with a fond smile. His smile turned more sardonic. "Although, if I'd known what kind of adult Ashley would grow into, I might have been more faint-of-heart on the subject."

Joe chuckled at that in spite of himself, shaking his head. Having met her, he knew she was a handful, the kind of daughter a Victorian gentleman would absolutely dread ending up with.

"Will says you're directing the effort to find and bring her home?"

"That's correct, Detective," he agreed. "William takes his responsibility to Ashley's mother very seriously but he has responsibilities far more pressing than recovering one lost lamb."

"Even when that 'lost lamb' is the woman's daughter?"

"Especially in such a case," Druitt answered quietly. "Helen is an admirably passionate woman but I know from firsthand experience that she can allow her affections to blind her to common sense. William is here as much to stop her as he is to help her. He… brings her back down to Earth as it were. When she loses a sense of perspective, he reminds her of her priorities. Ashley is, by all accounts, a dear child but she is incidental to the survival of the Sanctuary network."

Joe frowned. The other man's voice was soft and pained but he clearly believed what he was saying.

"If her recovery isn't important," he began carefully.

Druitt laughed, a low and bitter chuckle. "The matter's complicated. Suffice it to say that it would be most inadvisable to trust a man with my mental health history with any operation vital to the operation of such an organization at such a time."

Joe started to nod, then frowned. "Yet they seem to have no problem trusting the guy you claim tortured you."

"As I said, complicated. Nikola is not the first man I would chose for an ally if the decision were mine but he's in as much danger from the Cabal as any of us. Which means, for the time being, he can be relied upon and perhaps even trusted."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Don't mistake me, Detective. I wish the man dead. But, if he helps Helen cause the people who took my daughter to suffer, then I am more than willing to tolerate his presence for the time being."

"Just like that?"

"Outside of blood relatives, I have truly loved three people in my life. My dearest friend is dead, my daughter stolen from me. These two losses combine to have Helen in such a pain as there can be no words for. And it is _all_ the fault of the Cabal. There's very little I wouldn't do at this point to destroy them, even if it means tolerating Nikola Tesla's presence under this roof."

"And once this temporary truce is over?"

"I have no intention of harming him unless it should become necessary in self-defense. MJ Druitt is dead at Nikola's hands and all John wants from life is to have my family back. I bear him no grudge. Eventually, I may even bring myself to feel something akin to gratitude towards him."

Joe stared.

"You think me very strange," Druitt murmured, nodding knowingly. "All of us, I daresay. And, to a degree, you're correct. We do play by different rules. We _have_ to." He gestured around. "The stakes are simply too high. We can't afford to stand on convention when so many lives depend on what happens here in the days and weeks to come."

"Uh…"

He gave Joe a gentle smile. "I take it I'm not what you expected given my reputation. Coming here expecting to meet a notorious serial killer and instead finding a pragmatic and reasonable former schoolmaster must have been jarring for you."

"The whole idea of you sitting here is jarring all on its own," Joe admitted honestly. "To say nothing of the fact that you're got the prototype for every mad scientist in the past hundred years downstairs. I accept it up here." He tapped his forehead. "But it doesn't feel real, either."

"If none of this is real to you, Detective, that's a blessing. Take it as such," Druitt advised mildly.

"While all of you suffer?"

"We will continue to suffer whether you are forced to accept the harsh realities of our world or not. The only thing I ask of you is that you do your best to make this time easier for young William. He's taken quite the burden on himself since this began, and not just his normal duties to Helen. He seems to have assumed responsibility for her mental health and that of Henry Foss in addition to everything else."

"Above and beyond what you said earlier about it being his job to bring her back down to Earth?"

"Considerably beyond that, yes. Are you close?"

"Not really, but I do like him. I'll keep an eye out for him."

"My thanks. What can you tell me about his history of drug use?"

"His…" Joe stared. "Uh, I always knew he was on some stuff but that's kind of between him and his doctor."

"So nothing beyond what he was prescribed?"

"Man, I've never even known Will to _drink_," he answered, shaking his head. "Man takes care of himself, especially for a desk jockey. You think he's using anything stronger than energy drinks and you're probably barking up the wrong tree."

"Probably?" Druitt repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"What is he to you?" Joe asked instead of answering. "Why do you care? Because he's close to your ex?"

"Close," he laughed, shaking his head. "Based on my own observations of their interactions, I'd say the boy worships her. And that's a dangerous way for _any_ man to live."

"Pretty harsh condemnation to level against the mother of your child," he murmured, shifting uneasily.

"Don't mistake me. I feel nothing but respect and love for Helen. But I have seen firsthand in myself and in my friends what loving her can do to a man's life."

"You saying she's dangerous to him?"

She will never do anything but strive to protect and nurture him."

He frowned blankly. "I'm not sure what you're getting at. You talk about her like she only wants what's best for him, but…"

"And she does. Unfortunately, he also only wants what is best for her. Which will lead him to take risks, dare where no wise man would."

Before Joe could answer, Henry was entering the office. "Hey, Druitt, can I get a lift to Bogota? Oh, sorry. Didn't know you had company. Hey, Joe."

"Hey, Henry."

"We'll discuss this later," Druitt told Joe, climbing to his feet. "Bogota, you say? In Columbia?"

"Yeah." Henry nodded, hefting a backpack in his hands. "I need to discuss some things with a contact and I'd rather not do it over the phone or computer. Magnus said know the way?"

"I do. If you'll excuse us, Detective."

Druitt inclined his head to Joe, grasped Henry by the shoulder, and the two men vanished in a golden shimmer of light.

"Damn," Joe muttered, shaking his head and climbed to his feet, turning Druitt's words over in his mind. Will had always been on the over-enthusiastic side, but he was no idiot, either. Druitt was probably just equal parts projecting and being jealous.

Besides, Joe had enough on his plate liaising between the PD and the Sanctuary without looking for additional trouble.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Magnus?"

She turned, startled. "Will? I thought you had rounds this evening."

"I shuffled some appointments around," he explained, holding out a wrap. "Wanted to see how you're holding up."

She gave him a grateful smile, accepting the blanket and pulling it around her shoulders. It was a chilly night and the roof of the North Tower was always windy which just made it worse. Trust Will to think of bringing her a blanket. She wasn't remotely surprised when he proffered a thermos as well.

"Bless you, Will," she murmured, accepting it. "I'd invite you to join me but I daresay I'd be terrible company."

"That would be a first," he answered, moving past her to lean against a parapet, folding his arms over his chest and watching her with that thoughtful look of his.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I suppose this is the part where you ask me how I feel?"

"Hadn't planned on it. I know how I'd feel if it were my daughter and my life's work." He shook his head. "I'm not here to pry. I'm here to remind you that you aren't alone."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Will, but sometimes a soul needs some time alone."

"That I'll buy, but I don't think this is one of those times."

She narrowed her eyes. "Your skills at those things aside, I didn't hire you to profile or analyze me, Will."

"I know you didn't," he sighed, shaking his head. "But I like to think that we're friends, too, and that means I'm allowed to worry."

"Worry if you want," she answered, more brusquely than she intended. "Just don't make the mistake of assuming you know my mind."

"I'm many things but an idiot isn't one of them, Magnus. I get that there are parts of you that I'll never be privy to and, for the most part, I'm fine with that. But, right now, I think you need to accept that you aren't at your best and you probably need some help getting through this."

Part of her wanted to concede this, to lean against the parapet and weep until her heart broke the rest of the way and her pain stopped in consequence. The rest of her had spent more than a century and a quarter hardening itself against any admission to having regular human weaknesses.

It's wasn't just pride, either. Not even _mostly_ pride. Too many people relied on her, too many things were hers to shape, events to cause or prevent, history to change. But it was mostly the people. Almost a hundred years ago, James, rest his soul, had joking dubbed her _mater familias_ to the entire Sanctuary. She couldn't deny it, either. Her 'children' and her 'family' loved and honored her without reservation. Which created a certain obligation towards them. She _had_ to be the strong one for them. That was just the way it was.

"I'm fine, Will," she told him firmly, forcing herself to ignore the grown man and see the frightened child. She gave that child a warm, reassuring smile. "I have everything under control."

"I don't believe you." He shook his head, expression resolute.

She loved his stubborn ability to dig in his heels, usually even when it was directed against her. Tonight, she couldn't find herself doing anything but resenting it. It was a threat to her and that made it a threat to the Sanctuary.

"I have the situation in hand, Will," she told him more firmly. "I am perfectly in control."

"Maybe, but your grasp on that control can't be great under the circumstances. You need to understand that I'm here for you, no matter what."

"I do understand, Will, and I'm grateful," she assured him honestly. "But it isn't necessary. You have your own worries without adding mine as well."

"You're my main worry, Magnus. Always have been, always will. You know that. If you're okay, I'm okay."

"And who takes care of you, Will?" she asked abruptly. "I take care of everyone else and you take care of me. But who takes care of you?"

He looked mildly irritated. "Don't change the subject, Magnus."

"If I were truly attempting to change the subject, Will, I assure you I could divert your attention from this more successfully."

"Yeah? How?"

"I could mention what John had to say about you earlier in the day."

He rolled his eyes, letting out an irritated growl. "Clara and I had an argument. It was no big deal! I _just_ pointed out that we can't afford to waste time putzing around in the middle of a crisis and she got all miffy."

"I see," she murmured. "Which was interesting, I'm sure, but not what John wanted to speak to me about, either."

His expression turned cautious. "Oh. Yeah, he was curious about what all I was taking. Didn't figure the psych meds were his business but mentioning the modafinil didn't seem like it could hurt."

"And that's all you're taking?"

"That and the caffeine," he agreed readily, nodding. "I can see where you'd be worried, but you're welcome to test me if you want."

"I may hold you to that, Will," she murmured, watching him thoughtfully.

"That's fine." He gave a shrug. "Makes sense under the circumstances. But I _am_ a doctor. I know damned well that, with the meds I'm on regularly, indiscriminately taking much else could put me in a bad way. Arrhythmia, seizure, stroke, malignant hyperthermia, liver failure, cardiac arrest, serotonin toxicity, coma. Should I go on, Magnus? I've already got a rash and a migraine and a nasty case of the jitters. I'm not about to do anything to amplify those, let alone invite more side-effects on myself. So you can just _relax_."

She stared at him, startled and feeling a little hurt by his vehemence and dismissiveness. "Will, I'm only asking because I worry about you."

He sighed and closed the distance between them, expression apologetic if not precisely contrite. "But you don't have to, Magnus. If for no other reason than because I won't ever willingly disappoint you, I can be trusted to take care of myself."

"I know you won't let me down, Will, and I do trust you." She sighed, lifting one hand to touch his cheek with the back of two fingers. He sometimes looked so much like that child she'd saved all those years ago and that could be so very comforting. "When did you last sleep?"

"I got a couple hours yesterday morning, figured I'd get a few more tonight once I'm through with my patients. But I wanted to check on your before I did anything else."

She smiled in spite of herself. "Bless you, Will. But I really _am_ fine."

More or less.

He hesitated, obviously dubious but just as obviously reluctant to challenge her.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Now go see to your patients and then get some rest, hmm?"

He extended one hand, then let it fall away, shaking his head and turning. Magnus felt her eyes widen at the momentary, naked look of _need_ on a face whose expressions he was obviously too tired to guard.

"Will?" She frowned and caught his shoulder.

He flinched away like she'd struck him, which was surprising and more than a little painful. Silly to feel rejected when he was 'only' her student, but she was so used to him coming to her with his problems that to have him shrink from her was completely foreign. And, honestly, the last thing she needed when her world was already falling apart before her eyes.

Taking a moment to compose herself so her voice wouldn't shake, she told him, "I won't keep you from your patients."

His shoulders definitely slumped at her words, but his voice was steady and firm when he answered, "Thanks, Magnus. I'll see you around. Call me if anything comes up."

"Of course, Will."

He left without looking back and, when she heard his footsteps retreating down the stairs, she let out a shaky sigh. Resettling the blanket around her shoulders, she turned back to stare at the cityscape again. It seemed colder, darker, but she knew those things were just her imagination, relics of her own bleak mood.

Sighing, she retrieved the thermos Will had brought, helping herself to a calming draught of tea.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Hey, Annie," Will greeted her as he entered the cave-enclosure. "Sorry I'm late."

Annie was hanging from her perch on the ceiling nibbling on what looked like a lemon. "That's fine," she answered.

She let go of the perch with her feet and unfurling her wings as she fell. With a quick flip to orient her body head-up, she glided to the floor, flaring her wings to stop her forward momentum, ending up what she called the 'Western World-appropriate' distance of three feet from Will. He smiled and ignored the stiff wind she generated doing that and then rearranging her wings comfortable against her back.

She peered up at him with her fox-face and bright eyes, looking curious. "Lemon?" she offered, proffering it.

"Human taste-buds," he reminded her with a shake of the head. "I need some sweet with my sour."

"Your loss," she answered, popping the remaining quarter of the fruit into her mouth, peel and all.

Will sat down in the habitat's one armchair and waited until Annie had seated herself in a comfortable crouch on the floor. She'd always refused furniture, even that specifically designed to accommodate her body.

"I didn't expect to see you tonight," she told him before he could say a word.

"I wasn't going to cancel an appointment without letting you know."

Annie moved quickly and brought herself nose to nose with Will. Of course, being far smaller than a human, that meant she was now in his lap. Which had been unsettling the first time but not really since. She was descended from bats, after all, and female bats were very social and not remotely shy about personal space.

"You don't have to pretend everything's normal, Will. Everyone here knows better."

He sighed. "We stop going about business as usual and that's a Cabal win. I will _not_ be the man to allow that to happen, damn it."

Annie jumped onto a nearby boulder and, from there, onto the back of his chair. Will laughed and shook his head as he felt her claws against his scalp.

"Are you _grooming_ me up there, Annie?"

"Well it sure as hell isn't courtship behavior, Will. Much as I love you, I'd rather date a _lemur_ than an ape…"

"Fine by me," he assured her. "Because I, personally, have never really been too fond of rodents…"

"Hey!" she laughed in protest. "You know damned well I'm _chiroptera_ and not _rodentia_."

"My mistake," he answered. "But, Annie, _why_ are you grooming me?"

"Because you're a mammal and mammals find these things soothing. You obviously need it."

"Trying to analyze me now?" he asked, grinning at her over his shoulder.

"Turning into my keeper's keeper," she answered with a shrug. "We all worry about you, Will. Unlike the rest of us, you don't have anyone you can really go to. So we decided that those of us who don't struggle with depression should make ourselves available to you."

"'We' decided?" he asked, frowning and pushing down a surge of paranoia that almost certainly had more to do with the modafinil than with himself. "My patients have been talking about me behind my back?"

"We love you and we really do owe you a lot, so we want to be there for you. Like the way you're always going on about people needing a strong social-support network."

"Thus the social grooming?"

"Mmm hmm. Now talk to me, Will," she directed in a low, soothing voice.

"We're here to talk about you."

"My therapy. We talk about whatever the hell I _want_ to talk about," she informed him flatly. "And, right now, I want to talk about how William Perry Zimmerman is dealing with having the weight of the universe on his shoulders."

"It's not the _whole_ universe."

"Hey, isn't 'absolutely no bullshit' the first rule you lay down with your patients?" she inquired. "You've taken it on yourself to recover and fix Ashley, heal Henry, watch Druitt and Tesla like a hawk, and keep Helen's head above water, all the while liaising with the typicals." She was suddenly no longer on the back of the chair but in his lap, nose-to-nose with him. "Will, honey, I have offspring old enough to be your parents. There's nothing you can't tell me, kiddo."

He stared into those bright, beady eyes, considering for a long moment. "I'd almost forgotten what it feels like to be so worried about the future that it's physically painful," he whispered, closing his eyes.

That fox-like snout nuzzled his cheeks. "Will," she murmured, her breath hot and ticklish against his neck. "You tell me everything, son."

"I was alone and afraid and confused and ridiculed at every turn for almost 25 years," he whispered. "She came along and made it all go away. And now those bastards are making _war_ on her…"

Soft, fur-covered hands came up to cradle his face, and he felt her claws against his cheeks. Maybe it said he needed to be spending more time with 'normal' people, but it felt like he was being coddled by a mother. Granted, Annie _was_ a mother…

"Do you love her, Will?"

"Yes."

"Are you in love?"

"I don't know."

A tender kiss on each cheek, then, "Look at me, Will."

He opened his eyes reluctantly. That beautiful, usually-inquisitive face conveyed nothing but sympathy.

"Helen adores you. But she's never asked for nor expected special protection from those around her. I can entirely relate to wanting to give her that, but it's nothing you're obliged to do and certainly nothing she's ever required from you. The fact that you chose to attempt it anyway says a great a deal, son."

"She's got to be so alone…"

"She's not, not as long as you stick close. You can help her. But she can also help you. If you give comfort, don't be afraid to also let yourself _receive_ it."

"I can't let her see me be weak."

"Then instead you take your comfort in the company of the other men and women who love you, Will," Annie directed, nuzzling him again. "Everything you've done for all of us, we don't mind doing this for you."

Will wrapped his arms around her, relaxing into her and smiling at the way her fur tickled. So insanely reminiscent of being soothed by his own mother that he couldn't do anything but be comforted.

"Annie, I…" he began, shaking his head. This was no way to act in front of a patient.

"Hush," she directed tenderly. "Just go with it, Will."

"It's been so long."

"I know, darling. But I have you now and I'll keep the bad things at bay if you only let me."

"What if I can't do it? What if I'm not good enough? What if I let her down?"

"Whether you succeed in your self-appointed tasks or not, son, she will never find you a disappointment," she soothed, nuzzling his cheek and burying her claws in his hair again. "If you could hear the pride with which she always speaks of you, you'd know this."

"I'm scared, Annie. This world, it's become the center of my universe, started to define the person I am…"

"And now it's under attack and, somehow, that's worse than being held down and cut into and made into a creature you aren't."

He jumped to his feet, heedless of the woman in his lap, and backed away, equal parts angry and afraid.

"_Who the __**hell**__ told you that?"_ he demanded.

Everyone had known about the kidnapping of course, but not the rest. Not the way the Cabal had turned him into a monster who gloried in violence and could no longer tell friend from foe. Not how he'd tried to break Magnus' neck when she said she was going to have to sedate him to remove the Scarab. Not the mood-swings that had continued even after it was gone and the drugs were cleared from his system, too. Not the continued, irrational-but-not-entirely fear that he was still somehow under Cabal control and just didn't know it. Not waking up in a cold sweat _sure_ you could hear that seductive female voice the Scarab had used to nudge him further and further down the road to absolute loyalty.

She had no way of knowing any of that unless someone had told her, one of his coworkers or the Cabal itself.

"Look at you, son," she sighed, shaking her head, fox-face sad as she regarded him. "People talk. This is our home and you are our family. Everyone's been worried. Helen did her best to make sure no one resident knew the entire story of what had been done to you but, once we noticed how you'd changed and started discussing it among ourselves, it became clear. I don't pretend to know all the details of what was done to you, but Steve says not all your injuries were defensive in nature. That tells us the likely reason for the cut on your neck; you would never be so violent under your own power."

Will forced himself to relax, automatically rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't want to talk about this, okay?"

"Steve says the scar is ragged, like you were awake. Like you struggled."

"Annie, _don't_!" he pled, shaking his head and fighting tears. "It wasn't the same. I wasn't raped. It was just a medical procedure."

"I'm small; it took two men to hold me down. You're larger, stronger, were fighting for more than your virtue. How many men did it take to hold you down?"

He shook his head again.

"Answer me, Will!" she ordered, closing the distance between them. Small or not, she could be imposing when she wanted, especially when she used her matriarch voice. "Tell me how many men it took to hold you down."

"Three, maybe four."

"And one more to actually do the deed?"

"Two, I think," he whispered, closing his eyes. "One with the scalpel and forceps and the other with the actual Scarab…"

"Five or six, then. Were there others?"

He slid down the wall and to the floor, drawing his knees against his chest as his heart began to jackrabbit. Anxiety attack but at least it seemed unlikely that he would end up with a full-blown flashback.

"Were there others?" she repeated implacably.

"I don't know. I think so." He shook his head. "It was happening too fast, I couldn't keep track, but I could hear people laughing…"

"Laughing at the way you struggled? The way you _screamed_?" she prompted.

"Yes," he whispered, bringing his forehead to rest against his knees. "But it wasn't like it was for you," he added quickly. "What was done to you was…"

"Horrible?" she pressed when he faltered. "Disgusting? Unforgivable? An abomination?"

He tensed at the feel of her hands on his shoulders but the part of him that could hardly bear to be touched right now was overridden by the part of him that needed the comfort.

"The only difference, Will, is the object that made us bleed. The rest is the same except that, for you, the nightmare didn't end when the assault did."

"I can't let them do that to anybody else," he whispered, voice shaking.

"It or anything like it," she agreed, nuzzling his cheek again. "And I understand that desire, Will. But none of that translates into shutting yourself off emotionally and then proceeding to drive yourself into the ground. You need to talk and you need to rest. The only question is in what order."

"I can't talk about it anymore right now."

"Then rest. I'll sit up with you if you want."

"That won't be necessary. Once my nighttime meds kicked in, I wouldn't even be aware of your presence."

"I can sit with you until then," she offered gently.

"No." He shook his head. "I have some things I need to work through in private."

"If you're sure. But you know where to find me if you change your mind."

"Thanks, Annie," he sighed, weakly climbing to his feet.

She watched him keenly with those intelligent eyes of hers, clearly aware that there were things he wasn't saying. He was grateful when she didn't press him for details.

Lately, he'd come to see his life in three phases. Two of them, his first eight years of life and his time since coming to the Sanctuary, were pleasant and easy to remember fondly. The other twenty-four years were largely unfit for mixed company.

If being held down and violated by the Cabal reminded him of his time in foster care, that was nobody's business but his own. He gave her a genuinely grateful smile, then left her habitat.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

A fairly distasteful blend of human fear, fatigue, Alka Seltzer, too much Old Spice and not enough soap reached Henry's nose as he worked. Under that, not actually there but no less real to Henry, was the smell of popcorn and beer.

Quite aside from the way they _actually_ smelled, people always carried a scent-memory for him. Henry's memory for Will was them kicking back together and watching reruns of British science fiction and just being two regular guys without a care in the world. Which wouldn't have been remotely significant if it hadn't been so shortly after he'd started to accept his own nature. Realizing that Will did, too, just felt nice.

"Hey, man," he greeted him without looking up from the monitor. "What are you still doing up?"

"Just finished up a session with Annie. Thought I'd come remind you that you're not Magnus."

"I'm not tired, Will," he answered shortly, punching keys a lot more aggressively than was necessary.

"You can't keep burning the candle at both ends like this, Henry."

"And I can't stop, either," he growled, suddenly able to _see_ the temperature of the things in front of him. He closed his eyes and forced the change back down.

"Look at you, Henry," he sighed. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"Watch me. Not like I see _you_ sleeping much."

"I'm on my way to bed now," Will told him. "And I'm going to have to insist you do the same. This isn't healthy, Henry, and we need to stay healthy to stay useful. Come on, man."

Henry sighed and climbed warily to his feet. "You're really going to crash?"

"Drugs to make sure it happens and everything," Will agreed quietly, looking a little ashamed of the admission.

Not, Henry knew, because Will minded talking about his meds. He'd made it clear a long time ago that he was as reliant on Psych meds as Henry himself. No. Henry knew, because he shared the sentiment, that the shame came from having to admit that you couldn't make the situation right yet, that you needed to rest for _hours_ in which time things could get even worse than they already were.

"Be good for you," Henry told Will, resisting the urge to tell him to shower before turning in. He was pretty sure he reeked even worse than Will right now because, damn it, bathing was nice and all but it was also a waste of time they didn't have.

"Be good for us both," Will answered with a sigh. "You have everything you need to get to sleep?"

"I'm covered, man."

"Okay. Don't exceed the max dosages and let me know if you need anything."

"Ditto, Will," Henry told him firmly. "I know you don't always--"

"I'm good," he interrupted. "I talked about it earlier tonight. Now I just need a few hours of oblivion."

"Okay, but the offer stands."

The shrink's answering smile was almost heart-breaking, like he just wasn't used to such offers.

"I appreciate it. Night, Henry."

"Night, Will."

0101010

Christy Harrison was, Joe had to admit, the kind of girl a person could get scared of easily. Lots of rather prominent and very sharp teeth, claws that put Steve's to shame, and body hair that resembled nothing so much as Cousin Itt with a bad perm. But, to listen to her parents, she didn't have it in her to hurt a fly. Joe could easily believe that given some of the people he'd met since becoming aware of the Sanctuary.

Besides, she was only a kid. At present a kid in traction pumped full of more dilaudid than Joe had been given the time he got shot. Her parents were beside themselves even though, aside from the damage to her legs, Magnus had assured them Christy would be just fine. They had spent the last several days alternating between sitting vigil with their daughter and going out into the field to help other abnormals get themselves safely into hiding.

Her mother, a regular human as far as Joe could tell, had explained that the Sanctuary had had this contingency in place since the beginning, modeled after the Underground Railroad of days gone by. She had explained to Joe in a low, broken voice that it was safer for everyone if no one knew too much about the others. She and her husband, an abnormal like Christy, had been taking turns shuttling individuals and families from one Safe House to the next in the line before handing them off to the next contact in the progression.

Promising to sit up with Christy in case she woke up, Joe had finally talked both of her parents into getting some sleep. He was sitting at the foot of her bed, reviewing Will's reports on the attacks when she gave a soft, confused-sounding moan.

"Christy, honey? You awake?" he murmured.

"Unfortunately," she moaned. "My legs hurt."

Joe set aside his files, climbing to his feet and retrieving the self-delivery button, pressing it into her hand. "Start with hitting the button once," he directed gently. "If you need more, you can hit the button again. Do you need a doctor?"

She shook her head, depressing the button. Even through the mass of curly fur, he could see her body starting to relax almost at once.

"Better?"

"Little," she agreed.

"You can take more if you want to. It's set up so you can't give yourself too much."

She hit the button again, then let her hand relax around the button. The little sigh she let out a moment later reminded Joe of nothing so much as a contented puppy. Which was probably not a comparison anyone here would have appreciated him making so he kept it to himself.

"What's your name?" she asked drowsily.

"Joe."

"You said you're not a doctor? What do you do here?"

"I don't, not usually. I'm a cop; I'm investigating the attack against you. I had some work to do and your parents were exhausted so I told them I'd sit up with you. Would you like me to get your father?"

She shook her head. "Let Pop sleep. Where's Mom?"

"She out helping with the--" Reluctant to use the phrase 'war effort', he amended, "She's out helping some people."

The girl was silent and, for a minute, Joe was sure she'd fallen back to sleep. Then she murmured, "It's started, hasn't it?"

"What's started?" he asked, frowning.

"The Race War."

Joe stared. "It's a little premature to assume it's going to go down that way. The majority of the general public still doesn't know about the abnormals."

"You said you're a cop. _Someone_ knows about us if you're here because one of us was attacked."

"A few people know but not many. My boss' son is an abnormal so she takes an interest in the Sanctuary."

"Kevie," she answered, nodding faintly. "Sweet kid. Miss Amanda sometimes has me babysit him. Pop thinks I'm too young but Mom says it's good for me to learn responsibility, too."

"I think your mom has a point. Now why don't you try to rest?"

"Joe? If Doctor Helen thinks it's time to get people underground, there were people attacked other than me, weren't there?"

"A couple, yeah. But the Commissioner and I have that under control."

"The guy who attacked me," she began.

"Try not to think about it, honey," Joe urged. "Unless you need to talk about it? I can go get Will for you?"

"No. I don't want Will." She shook her head, hitting the button for another dose of painkillers. "What'll happen to him?"

Joe exhaled deeply. "I don't really know," he admitted. "I haven't been around long enough to know how the Sanctuary handles these kinds of things."

"They don't. They just hope they go away." She sighed. "It was a Hate Crime and no one's going to do anything to make things right."

"We're going to take good care of you," he promised. "I mean, I know it's not much, but…"

"I understand," she answered. "Can you get my pop now?"

"You've got it, honey. I'll be right back with him."

"Thanks, Joe."

"No problem. Hang tight. Call if you need me," he directed, leaving the room for the main infirmary and heading to the room where her father was. "Ray," he breathed, grasping the sleeping man's furry shoulder.

He mumbled in his sleep, rolling away from Joe.

"Christy's asking for you."

Ray groaned and hauled himself into a sitting position, reaching under the fringe of hair covering most of his face to rub his eyes.

"Is she okay? Hurting?"

"It's not that. She gave herself some pain meds. But she's also got a lot of questions about what's going on and what it all means. I offered to get Will but she said not to."

"He's a nice kid, but he's not one of us, either."

"Because he's human?" he asked, frowning. "Christy's mother is human, too."

"This isn't his world yet," he began. His head shot up. "He's arguing with someone."

"What?" Joe frowned. No one had mentioned that Ray and Christy were psychics. Then he heard a pair of distant voices approaching.

"…not negotiable, Druitt!" Will was declaring emphatically.

"Damn it, William, those monsters have my daughter!"

"They're monsters but that doesn't mean we get to be monsters, too!" the psychiatrist snapped, voice raising.

Joe shook his head. "You go see your daughter, Ray. I'll go remind those two that there are people trying to sleep down here."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Come on, guys," Joe sighed, approaching Will and Druitt where they stood arguing in the hallway. "Patients trying to sleep. What are you even doing down here at this hour?" he added, eying them.

Druitt was dressed in his usual black slacks and leather coat, Will in a loosely-belted terrycloth bathrobe. The older man looked vaguely annoyed, the younger downright furious, almost like he was spoiling for a fight.

"What's going on?" Joe asked, ready to step between them if it became necessary. Which was scary to consider when one of them was Jack the freaking Ripper.

"Druitt and Clara know where Ashley's being kept," Will answered, lowering his voice again. "We're just discussing tactics."

"Tactics?" he repeated, frowning.

"William insists upon the use of nonlethal force only. I'm inclined to operate with marginally more prejudice."

"No one dies, Druitt," Will said firmly, shaking his head. "That's not how the Sanctuary operates."

"Uh, I know I'm the new guy and everything but I've got to agree with Will on that one. Legality and ethics aside, the more of their people you hurt, the more of a threat they're going to perceive you as being. They'll have more reason to escalate."

Druitt scoffed. "With all due respect to your professional assessment, Joe, they've hardly needed an excuse to make war on abnormals in the past. Don't make the mistake of assuming they're rational creatures."

"That much I have to agree with," Will conceded with a shrug. "But that doesn't mean anything. You agree to do this without unnecessary casualties or you don't participate."

"Good luck covertly infiltrating a facility on the other side of the planet without me, my boy," he answered, shaking his head. "Face it, William. You're not likely to retrieve my daughter without my active participation."

Will let out an annoyed breath. "Don't play games with me, Druitt. I'm all about rescuing Ashley but not at the possible expense of putting Magnus in more pain than she's already feeling. You fuck with me on this point and an EM-shielded holding cell is going to be the least of your problems."

Joe raised an eyebrow. He didn't think he'd _ever_ heard Will issue an actual threat before. For that matter, the word 'fuck' seldom passed his lips outside of a context involving intense and unexpected pain. Even more striking was that Druitt, although his expression remained mildly contemptuous, obviously took the threat seriously.

"Fair enough, my boy. But don't blame me when things go horribly wrong."

"That won't happen," Will answered, expression tight and determined. "Now go wake Henry and help him start assembling supplies."

"You need help?" Joe offered. At their stares, he shrugged. "Already broken the law for you guys a couple of times. I don't see once more making a difference. Ashley seems like a sweet kid. I want to help."

Druitt looked more than a little leery of the offer but Will nodded immediately.

"Every extra set of hands helps. Thanks, Joe. Look, you guys get Henry and get ready. Magnus and I will meet you in the armory as soon as I brief her."

"You're going to bring the girl's _mother_ along?" Joe asked, staring. "Will, no way is she going to be able to maintain objective."

Druitt chuckled. "I take it your friend doesn't know Helen well, William?"

"Not yet, but he'll learn," Will answered, giving Joe a smack on the arm and heading off.

"Let's gear up," the Detective suggested. Then he shook himself. "God, I can't believe I'm about to raid the secret lair of the real world's equivalent of SPECRTE with a werewolf, an immortal, and Jack the Ripper…"

Druitt's chuckles turned to full-blown laughter. Shaking his head, he rested a hand on Joe's back and steered him down the hall.

"Now you know how poor William feels every single day," he laughed as they walked.

Joe had to laugh, too.

"Now then, to put it in terms my daughter might employ, let us go kick ass, take names, and look good doing so."

"Jesus. You people are a bunch of psychos."

"Yes," Druitt agreed easily. "But well-intentioned psychos." Smile widening, he added, "Hell, sometimes we're even _lovable_ psychos. Wouldn't you agree?"

Joe blinked, resisting the urge to put a few feet between himself and the other man. "I'm going to pretend you weren't leering at me when you said that, okay?"

"By all means, old boy, but it's your loss."

0101010

"Magnus, wake up," Will's voice murmured as he gave her shoulder a shake. "Come on. Wake up."

"Mmm?" she mumbled, not rolling over. "Will?"

"Yeah. Sorry to wake you."

"What time is it?"

"Almost four, but I need you to wake up for me. They saw her."

She rolled over then, sitting up and squinting at him through the darkness of the bedroom.

"Are you _sure_?" she demanded breathlessly.

He nodded.

"Will!" she gasped, leaning forward and grabbing his shoulder. "Is she all right? Is she hurt?"

"No, no." He shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed and resting his hands on her shoulders. "Just relax, Helen."

She raised her eyebrow at his use of her given name, but let the psychologist/negotiator tactic slide. Right now, she needed the rapport he was offering, needed to be able to trust him. It wasn't as artificial as it would have been in a professional context. This was _Will_ and the mutual trust was already there, the conviction that, together, they could make things right. He was just reminding her.

"Tell me everything," she directed.

"She's at the Gobi facility, like we thought. Clara says she looks completely unharmed, healthy if not happy."

"There's more, isn't there?" She searched his eyes with hers. "Tell me the rest, Will."

He hesitated, not meeting her eyes. He spoke quietly, quickly, like a doctor trying to get the delivery of a grim prognosis over with. "She's got free run of the place, isn't being followed or watched. She's not being treated like any kind of prisoner."

"Will, look at me," she directed. When he had reluctantly met her eye, she informed him, "That was in no way unexpected. Whatever force compelled her to leave and take the Source with her is obviously still at work in her. I have every faith that we can undo this damage. Now tell me the rest."

He cleared his throat. "People are taking orders from her. She's teaching them Sanctuary tactics and procedures. They have a prisoner, only one as far as Clara could make out, and Ashley appears responsible for his interrogation."

"This prisoner? Did Clara hear a name?"

"She said it sounded like they were saying 'bitter' or 'batter' or something." He shook his head. "Not everyone there even speaks English and the ones who do have pretty thick accents often as not. Clara couldn't make out a lot of specifics."

"Bataar Tam," she sighed. "No one's seen him since before this started. I'd hoped he'd merely had the sense to make himself scarce."

"What's his deal?"

"He helps people when they need to disappear."

"So every reason to assume he decided to lay low until things cooled down with the Cabal," Will murmured, nodding. "And every reason for the Cabal to want to know what he knows. How many people does he stand to expose if they break him?"

"Several hundred," she sighed. "More than a few capable of causing substantial damage under Cabal control."

"Then we rescue him when we snag Ashley?"

"Even if he weren't so dangerous to us in their hands. He's always been extremely faithful to the Sanctuary. We _owe_ him our loyalty."

"Of course," he agreed a little belatedly. "Joe Kavanaugh wants to join us during the retrieval."

"Absolutely not," she answered, slipping out of bed and walking to her wardrobe. "He isn't a member of this organization and, even if he were, he has no experience in this sort of situation."

"He's raided his share of drug houses and gang hangouts in his career," Will told her. "He knows a thing or two about urban combat."

She pulled down the hanger with her leathers, turning to face him again. "What's your assessment of his value to us in this situation?"

As she searched her dresser for underwear and a tank top, Will told her, "He's guilty of Witness Intimidation at this point. Guy like Joe doesn't break the law for just anyone and, once he has, there's no going back. He's committed to us now whether he likes it or not. If he comes, he'll have our sixes."

"Then he comes," she decided, stripping off her nightgown.

Will's eyes widened but, to his credit, he acted like she stripped in front of him all the time.

"You won't regret including him," he told her as she dressed. "He's good people. Plus, you know, honestly, the more thoroughly he gets compromised legally and ethically, the more likely he becomes to not turn on us _ever_ no matter what happens."

She frowned at him over her shoulder as she pulled her leather pants on. He had a point but it wasn't a sentiment she'd ever wanted to hear from him. She preferred him wide-eyed and optimistic. He'd always been a pragmatist, of course, but that attitude from Will was far too manipulative for her taste.

"Go join the others," she directed, reaching for her jacket. "I'll be down directly."

"Magnus," he sighed, approaching and grasping her shoulder. "Are you _sure_ you want to do this to yourself?"

"No," she admitted, giving him a weak smile. "But I don't think I have a choice. I knew when I made the decision to carry her to term that she'd break my heart some day. That was foregone and I never minded it. But that doesn't change a thing. She's in this position because of my actions and decisions. I have a responsibility to her and I will live up to it."

He hesitated. "I won't tell you that you don't have to do this; we both know that you do." He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Just remember that you aren't alone," he directed, locking gazes with her.

His eyes were wide and a little frantic as they had been for days now, but there was no denying the warmth and support in his expression as he regarded her, either. She smiled and nodded once, biting back tears of affection and gratitude.

"Thank you, Will," she murmured. "Now let's bring my daughter home."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Teleporting was kind of fun. If you were the kind of guy who liked being suspended in freefall in a pitch-black wind tunnel being buffeted by winds that made an F-5 hurricane look tame while clinging to a complete stranger and dealing with the knowledge that, if either one of you couldn't hold on, you were probably going to get swept into a void from which there wasn't going to be any coming back.

Not so much Joe's thing…

Logistical considerations meant they had to go in all at once. The element of surprise probably wasn't going to be theirs anyway, but they couldn't risk anyone throwing up an EM Shield once Druitt appeared. So, despite the fact that it would not leave the teleporter at his best, all five joined in a kind of group hug and they went in at once.

Joe staggered as his feet hit the ground, trying to remember which direction gravity was supposed to run in again. Nor was he the only one. Everyone in the small group looked distinctly queasy and Druitt looked like he was having trouble staying on his feet.

"You okay, man?" Joe asked, reaching out to steady him.

Druitt shied away, eyes wide, angry, and momentarily fearful. Until Magnus touched his cheek, at which point the deep waters ran still once more.

Joe took his bearings and wondered what it was with these people and abandoned warehouses. There were about twenty people at the far end of the empty space, watching as Ashley Magnus bent over a man tied to a chair and helped herself to a handful of hair, jerking his head back.

"Tell me!" she ordered.

"Ashley," he protested, tears streaming down his face. "Why are you doing this? You're one of us!"

Her voice low and menacing, "Tell me what I need to know and I'll consider letting you live, Tam."

"Ashley!" one of the men standing behind her warned.

Every Cabal operative in the room drew a weapon and leveled it at the Sanctuary team.

"No," Ashley directed, holding up one hand and turning to face her former people. Every face in the room turned to her, expression varying degrees of shock, outrage, and disdain. She ignored them. "These people are my family and that makes them my problem. Especially Helen Magnus and Henry Foss," she told her people. Then she put her gun on the ground and started for the center of the warehouse. She pointed to Henry. "You first, please."

He swallowed hard, then nodded once and laid his taser on the ground.

"Henry!" Will protested, taking a step towards him.

The werewolf shook his head. "Sorry, Will. This is a promise we made to each other a long time ago."

Joe stared. Suicide-pact? Good to know everyone at the Sanctuary was so sane and reasonable.

"Henry," Magnus began, shaking her head.

"Helen," Druitt interrupted, placing a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Let him. This is something he needs to do."

Henry looked at him, expression startled. "Thanks, man."

"And thank _you_ for stepping up to this unenviable task." Druitt inclined his head to Henry. "Good luck, son."

"Thanks, man," he repeated.

Henry drew in a deep breath, then moved to stand before Ashley. Who promptly reached out and drew him into a hug. Joe stared as Henry stood rigid for a good five seconds before wrapping his arms around her as well, burying his face in her shoulder.

"Come home, Ash," the werewolf pled.

"I wish I could. But it's not where I belong any more. If it ever wasin the first place. Thank you for doing this, Henry."

"A promise is a promise."

"I missed you."

"Me, too," he sighed.

"You're waiting for me to stick a knife in your back, aren't you?"

"It had occurred to me you might. Be easier."

"Wish I could, but the Cabal wants you alive."

She broke the hug and pressed her lips to his for a moment before falling back several steps. Henry stared at her in shock for a moment, then shook himself and pulled his t-shirt off.

"You've got to be kidding?" Ashley said, shaking her head.

"Only way I have a reasonable chance against you. This form's never been able to stand up."

"True," she conceded, folding her arms over her chest and watching impassively as he pulled off his pants.

Joe stared at the tableau for a second. He wasn't exactly sure how he had expected the Extraction to go down, but it hadn't involved an unarmed throw-down between a werewolf and a monster-hunter.

Not that there was a lot anyone could do about it when they had about two dozen guns trained on them from a distance that made their tasers completely useless. They had guns with tranquilizer rounds but, if they had opened up with those, the Cabal operatives would have turned them into Swiss cheese.

It occurred to Joe with a sick lurch in his stomach that this went _way_ the Hell beyond 'inadvisable'. Audacious as all shit, yes, and gave them the element of surprise, but still fucking nuts of them.

"Henry," Ashley said as he reached for the waistband on his boxers, "I hope it goes without saying that I've always loved you and still do."

He closed his eyes, drawing a few deep breaths before smiling up at her. "I love you, too, Ash. Now let's get this the hell over with."

Joe frowned at Will. "You said they weren't together."

"They aren't," Will told him. "They just-- _Jesus!_" The psychiatrist abruptly looked ready to be ill.

Joe followed the direction of Will's gaze and winced. Ashley was on the floor, pinning the arms of the wolf-creature that used to be Henry to the ground with her knees and pummeling the wolf-creature's face, her expression one of intense concentration. It was bizarre to watch the amount of consideration she obviously put into each blow in spite of the rapid way each followed the other. Each blow seemed specifically designed to maximize the stunning impact of the one before. Henry lay there looking dazed.

Magnus took a step towards the pair, but John grabbed her and pulled her into a rough embrace, tightening his hold on her when she struggled to break free.

"Will, we've got to do something," Joe whispered, shaking his head.

Will shook his own head in answer. "She's not distracted enough yet. Any one of us tries moving in on her now and Henry's a dead man."

"She keeps _that_ up, he's one anyway!"

"Not in that form. Trust me, I've seen him take worse."

Henry abruptly bucked under Ashley, _hard_, knocking her off his body and sending her sliding a good four or five feet across the floor towards their group. He scrambled onto all fours and closed the distance. Magnus had stopped struggling against Druitt, who was holding her close and whispering quickly in her ear.

Joe was starting to get the impression this fight wasn't as on-the-fly as it looked. Henry circled and Ashley evaded, moving ever-closer to the 'rescue party' and their tasers. That suspicion was confirmed when Will moved so that Druitt and Magnus were standing between him and the Cabal operatives. Once he was out of their line of sight, he drew his weapon.

Ashley caught Henry's front leg in both hands, spinning until she was standing directly behind him, dislocating the shoulder with an audible 'pop'. Which Joe thought was bad until she took it in both hands and twisted sharply in opposite directions. Henry yelped the way only an injured animal could and Ashley just twisted harder, face contorted with effort. The sound was like a bb-gun shot at a pane of glass: pop, crack, _shatter_…

Henry yelped again, jerking free with a sound of bone-on-bone. He fell back a few steps, then turned to face Ashley on his three functional legs, teeth bared in a snarl.

"What are you waiting for?" she shouted, actually beating her chest with both fists as she postured at him. "What's the matter, Dog Boy? Mom neuter you when I wasn't looking?"

Will took three quick steps forward and fired, expression grim. She turned to face him, eyes wide, and _smiled_.

"You honestly thought a regular taser was going to bring me down?" she laughed, swaying on her feet and looking ready to spring.

"_Hoped_ it would," he answered, shrugging. "Wanted to avoid the alternative."

And he keyed on another switch. Ashley crumpled to the ground and Henry was at her side in a heartbeat.

Joe's head shot up so he could gauge the Cabal's reaction to this development. But not one of them was moving. Which probably had something to do with the fact that Magnus and Druitt were now in their midst, each holding a hostage. Magnus had a gun pressed to her captive's temple, her arm tight across his throat. Druitt was holding a knife to the throat of his hostage, holding her secure with a hand snaked up between her breasts, a joyous expression on his face as he faced down the others.

"Every last one of you knows I'm more than capable," he purred. "So this is how it's going to work."

Magnus roughly propelled her hostage forward and forced him to release their hostage, Bataar Tam. Then all three quickly moved to where Henry and Will huddled over Ashley, Will checking her over and Henry just caressed the side of her face with his bleeding muzzle.

"I am going to take my daughter and my friends, and _your_ friends," Druitt told the Cabal. "And, if no further direct assault is made against the Sanctuary, all three will be allowed to live. Otherwise, I shall take great pleasure in eviscerating each and every one of your people. _Including_ Ashley…"

Joe stared. Druitt seemed perfect serious. He also seemed to kind of get off on the idea. By now, Magnus had forced her prisoner to lay prone against Ashley, and she was leaning over both of them. At her encouragement, Bataar joined them.

"Come on, Joe," Will directed. "Let's get out of here."

Joe joined the dog-pile, not taking his eyes off Druitt. Who was abruptly not where he had been but sprawled with his captive atop them all.

"Everyone hold on!" he ordered.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

They were in the black wind tunnel again. Joe felt his grip on someone (Will? Bataar?) slip and frantically helped himself to a bigger handful of fabric. Then they hit the floor of the Sanctuary's entryway in a tangle of limbs, hard enough to take the breath from him.

The Cabal operatives squirmed free and darted for the door, but crumpled before they made it. One had been hit by a tranquilizer-round from Will. The other, by one from the waiting Steve, who Joe would probably never stop thinking of as 'the lizard-guy in the bathrobe' even though he was currently wearing scrubs. No one paid the slightest attention to the fallen Cabal members, too busy dealing with their own casualties.

Will was alternately checking over Druitt and whispering to Bataar. Steve saftied his gun, tucked it into his pocket, and hurried to Ashley, emptying a syringe into her arm. Magnus was struggling with Henry, human again and stark naked, as he cradled a computer-tablet in his broken arm and frantically tapped away with his good hand. He had stashed the tablet in the entryway before they left so he could get security under control the second they got back because, one way or the other, they were going to _need_ it.

"Damn it, Henry, let me _help_ you!" Magnus ordered, expression frantic.

He shook his head, letting out a labored puff of air and leaning away from her hands. "Level… One Lockdown… Worldwide, initiated," he told her in a series of pained rattle-gasps that told Joe the guy had a punctured lung. "Emails, texts… automated… _phone-calls!_" he ground out.

"Henry, the system will handle everything automatically at this point," Magnus told him gently, grasping his shoulder. "Now let me help you, dear."

He nodded weakly and the tablet clattered to the floor. "Hurts, Doc."

"I know, Henry, but I'll take care of you," she promised, squeezing his shoulder and helping him stretch out on the floor so she could give him a once-over.

Joe started to go see if he could help her -- Steve had already transferred Ashley onto a waiting gurney and was strapping her down. He stopped when he realized how frantic Will was looking himself. He had sent Bataar to the infirmary but was still working on Druitt, trying to get a response from him. Joe dropped into a crouch next to him.

"What's going on, man?"

"I'm pretty sure he just put himself into a coma with all that effort," Will whispered, shaking his head. "And the odds are good he caused himself some brain-damage."

Joe winced. "Can you help him?"

Will nodded. "Acetylcholine should at least help bring him out of the coma eventually. It's not really indicated, but Druitt's never been wired like a regular human."

"And the brain-damage?"

He shook his head. "I'm more worried about the coma than the brain-damage to be quite honest. We know from experience that ECT should clear that right up. Look, I've got Druitt; you go help Magnus."

"You've got it," Joe agreed, moving to her side. "What do you need?"

"As many strong bodies as I can get to transfer him onto the backboard smoothly. I don't think there's spinal damage, but I'm not comfortable ruling it out without imaging."

Joe nodded and helped Magnus, Steve, and Will shift Henry onto the board. The man groaned but otherwise took it in silence.

"You okay, Henry?" Will asked, grasping Henry's good shoulder as Magnus and Steve strapped him down.

Henry shot him a 'could you ask a dumber question, you fucking idiot?' look.

"Sorry," Will said, coloring and looking away.

The werewolf caught his hand. "Ash 'k?" he gasped.

"Pulse and respiration are stable. She'll be out for awhile, but she'll be just fine."

"Take care… her… f' me."

"Always," Will promised, patting his shoulder and falling back as Joe and Steve lifted the backboard onto a stretcher. "I'll be down in a few minutes to talk, okay?"

Henry nodded and closed his eyes.

Will locked eyes with Magnus. "Just like we discussed with the Inderal. Bataar, too, just to be safe."

"I'll see to it," she promised. "And the dosage-schedule for John is in his chart. Call me if you have questions."

Joe watched her wheel Henry away. Since Steve had already taken Ashley away and Bataar had already left, that just left Druitt and the two Cabal operatives to deal with. Not that the Cabal operatives were their problem, apparently. Other Sanctuary members had started to appear, mostly human-looking but led by a guy who looked a lot like Steve except with more of an orange tinge to his scales.

"You got them covered, Ben?" Will asked.

"Under control, Will," the lizard-man agreed with a nod. "Holding ccccellss all ready."

"Excellent." Will nodded sharply.

"Everything happen assss planned?"

"Pretty much," Will assured him, returning his attention to Druitt.

"You actually _planned_ for all this?" he asked Will, frowning. "Henry? _Druitt?_"

"Expect the best; prepare for the worst. Druitt and Henry volunteered. It would have been great if we could have gotten Ashley to come quietly, but that wasn't going to happen and we all knew it." Will sighed. "Look, can you help me get him up on a stretcher?"

"I can't believe you actually agreed to that plan." Joe shook his head, grabbing Druitt by the ankles. "On three."

"Not like other options were lining up to present themselves. One, two."

"Three," Joe sighed. "Damn, this guy weight a ton!" he grunted.

"I hear he's pretty athletic."

"You hear?"

"Only met him a few days ago. Haven't exactly had time to challenge him to a game of racquetball." Will started to strap him down.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Because if he _did_ do himself any brain-damage, we don't want him able to move once he wakes up," Will informed him, tightening the straps.

Joe frowned. "Would this be related to his threat to enjoy _gutting_ those Cabal types?"

"He's a decent guy when he's not brain-damaged. The details are between him and Magnus, _not_ you and me."

"I know who he is, Will."

"Then you know why we need to be careful. Now come on."

0101010

Everything became a swirl of activity after that with Magnus scrambling to help Henry and Will scrambling to help Druitt. It quickly became clear that Henry was going to need surgery and, while Magnus was prepping him, Will announced that Druitt was stable but unlikely to regain consciousness any time soon. Stopping only long enough to wash his hands, Will went to help Magnus with Henry.

Steve helped Joe get Ashley secured in a cell which apparently had some kind of special shield erected around it to prevent her from teleporting out. It didn't stop Steve from insisting that the girl be securely strapped down.

"You've never sseen her fight before," he said simply when Joe expressed questions over whether further restraint was actually necessary. "Come. Our other guessstss should be awake by now."

They were awake, and clearly livid. The male was pacing his cell looking distraught, the woman screaming obscenities and pouncing on the Plexiglas with her fists. The lizard-man named Ben watched her, laughing and occasionally tapping his claws against the clear surface.

"And the moccassssin iss on the other foot," he told her as Joe and Steve approached.

"Don't, Ben," Steve suggested, shaking his head. "Helen wouldn't approve. They're captivess, not animalsss."

"An argument could be made that they're both," Ben answered, turning and giving Steve a toothy grin. "Can I watch Will quesstion them?"

"I'll find out." Steve grasped his shoulder for a moment, then patted it. "Let everyone know everything that hass happened."

"Sssee you after work, lover."

"Can't wait." Steve gave him another toothy grin, then turned his attention back to the prisoners.

Not just giant lizard-men but giant _gay_ lizard-men? Why not? Shrugging, Joe turned to look at the Cabal operatives.

"What will you do with them?"

"For now, nothing. Will and Helen will decccide later. Other thingss are more important right now. Don't worry. We'll hande it."

"That's actually what worries me."

Steve laughed, smacking Joe on the shoulder. "Have faith in uss. Everything'll be fine."

"Right," Joe agreed, ignoring the woman who was now accusing him of being a race-traitor at the top of her lungs. The man, on the other hand, was huddled in the far corner of his cell sobbing like a frightened child. "I almost feel sorry for him."

"He sshould be pitied, Joe. _Both_ of them. They know not what they do. Come. Helen or Will may need help."

"Right," he sighed, following Steve from the holding area.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Magnus stared at the girl strapped to the bed through the glass with a grim expression. "The EM Shield is in place, Henry?"

"Yeah," he answered quietly, absently scratching his cheek. He winced but otherwise ignored the pain the ill-advised touch must have caused. "She's not going anywhere."

"Good." She nodded sharply. "_**No one**_ goes in or out of that room without a direct order from me."

"Magnus!" Will protested, shaking his head. "I can't effectively deprogram her under those conditions. If she decides it's because I'm scared of her, there is going to be zero progress."

"Will, you can't go in there," Joe protested. "You're going to get killed. The chick is out of her fucking mind!"

"Hey!" Henry snapped, advancing on Joe with a murderous expression.

"Henry," Will sighed, stepping between the two men and grabbing both Henry's shoulders. The werewolf didn't even flinch at the hand on his bad shoulder. Will shook his head. "Take a walk; clear your head. This is _not_ where you need to be right now, man."

He shook his head. "I'm not leaving her, Will."

"Henry, I don't even know how you're still capable of remaining upright after the beating you took and the procedure you just underwent. With those drugs, Ashley's going to be out for at least another nine or ten hours. Go get some rest."

"No. I'm staying."

"Henry Albert Foss!" Magnus snapped, shoving Will aside and positioning her nose about three centimeters from Henry's. _"You. Will. Remember. Your. Place. In. This. Pack. And. Do. As. You. Are. __**Told**__!" _she ground out in a rapid-fire staccato.

Henry took three stumbling steps backwards and then stood staring at her, looking for all the world like a man who had just taken a kneecap to the groin. For about two seconds, then his eyes darkened to that yellow and his face elongated into a more snout-like shape. And god those _teeth_ looked even scarier in a human face.

His clothes were the next casualty as his body began to change in size and shape. Henry didn't even bother tearing at them, just waited for the seams to give, which looked incredibly painful but didn't even seem to register. He just seemed too busy glaring at her with anger and disgust.

Magnus stood firm, looking absolutely enraged, and Will was staring at the tableau in horror. She folded her arms over her chest and locked eyes with the wolf-creature, expression shifting seamlessly into a contemptuous sneer.

An alarmed yelp was followed by an agonized moan and then the wolf-creature fled the room at an awkward lope. How he managed it at all on a broken arm was beyond Joe.

"Magnus, that was pretty damned harsh," Will whispered, rubbing his hand over his mouth.

"Don't you _dare_ question my parenting methods," she answered sharply. Then, in a voice that reminded Joe uncannily of his grandmother's lecture-voice, she informed the younger man, "Those were the _only_ words that were going to get him to leave and we both know it."

"You could have at least tried saying please first."

"You don't want to test my patience right now," she warned, shaking her head. Then she sighed and her shoulders slumped, all the energy seeming to drain out of her. Not defeat, just fatigue. "My daughter is a slave to the ever-loving Cabal. John is in a coma. Henry is distraught, has three broken ribs, five broken bones in his face, and may never fully recover the use of his right hand. And you, Will, are not holding up nearly as well as you pretend, which is breaking my heart. So, if you would be so kind as to not push my buttons, I would appreciate it a great deal, Doctor Zimmerman."

"Magnus," he sighed, taking a step towards her and lifting his arms.

She took a long step back, shaking her head. "Not now. This isn't the time."

"Look, would you stop being all… Victorian on me? If a woman has _ever_ needed a hug, it's you right now."

"Another time, Will."

He shook his head, looking equal parts annoyed, confused, and hurt. "You know as well as I do what hugging does to a person's brain-chemistry and how that impacts stress. Now you are either getting a hug or you're going to tell me what's going through that amazing mind of yours," he ordered.

She sighed, stepping past him and resting one hand against the glass looking into the Isolation cell.

"I could very much benefit from a hug, Will, I won't lie. But if I put my arms around you right now, I'm not sure I'd be able to let go again." Joe had no damned idea how the woman managed to keep her voice that steady. She was way the hell beyond being 'controlled' and 'measured' as Will claimed. It was absolutely inhuman, that level of composure. "Right now you're the only stable thing in this whole damned world and that has me feeling things I probably shouldn't."

Joe's eyes widened at that confession.

"Helen," Will whispered, resting his hands on her shoulders. "No one expects you to be the strong one right now. This is killing you. We understand that. And we want to _help_."

She lifted her other hand to the glass as well, closing her eyes and leaning forward until her forehead touched the Plexiglas, too. Will moved closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning into her back. She let out a low whimper and Will kissed her hair.

"I'm here for you and I'm not going _anywhere_," he breathed.

Her head fell back and Joe saw tears. She turned her face until her cheek touched Will's, which Joe decided was his cue to leave. The psychiatrist swore blind that they weren't involved but Joe had seen sexual encounters that didn't convey _half_ the intimacy and devotion of that simple embrace. Involved or not, their actions spoke to something deep, profound, almost spiritual in nature: simple, complete, unquestioning _love_…

Shaking his head, Joe went to see how poor Henry was holding up.

0101010

They stood locked in that pose for better than five minutes in complete silence, Will's tears mingling with her own where their faces touched. He couldn't have known what he was doing, but he was leaning into her with enough pressure to remind her of John. Of the way, after lovemaking, she would lay on her stomach and he would sprawl across her back, just stroking her cheek with one long finger while he nuzzled the back of her neck.

"This is completely inappropriate," she whispered.

"It's what you need."

"You don't understand. I can't stop thinking about John."

"He used to hold you like this?"

"Something similar," she admitted. "You don't seem remotely surprised."

"It doesn't matter. It's what you _need_," he repeated. "If you need a surrogate for Druitt, I'm comfortable filling that role for you."

"It's manipulative and more than a little dishonest," she sighed.

"How is it dishonest when we both know _exactly_ what's actually going on?"

"I'm using you."

"And I'm _letting_ myself be used." He tightened his hold on her and leaned a little harder. "Maybe I need the excuse to be close, too."

She lifted one hand to his face, staring straight ahead at Ashley as she lightly stroked his cheek. "Tell me what her treatment will involve."

"Deprogramming can be iffy but, basically, I do everything in my power to show her how mistaken her beliefs are. It helps that we already have a personal relationship. If you can find a way to break the grip of the drugs on her, that'll make it easier. After that, it's mostly just helping her cope with the things she did while the Cabal had her. For that, we'll utilize techniques similar to what you might for a kidnapping victim or a war survivor. She's going to be experiencing a tremendous amount of guilt over all this."

"Now _that_ I can relate to," she sighed.

Will tightened his hold on her. "This isn't your fault."

"It most certainly is, Will. Like the Whitechapel murders. Like John breaking James' heart. Like Nikola's crimes. Like Nigel's. I have a lot to answer for. Let's not pretend otherwise."

"Magnus, you couldn't have seen where things with the Source were going. Not even James Watson was able to see that coming. I know you'll never be able to let it go entirely, but you can't keep blaming yourself for it, either. Just like you can't blame yourself for this."

"I gave them permission to go, Will. They walked into a trap because I _allowed_ them to."

"It's Ashley. You really think a lack of permission would have stopped her?"

She sighed and shook her head. "I don't know _what_ I believe right now."

"It doesn't help that you've been sleeping even less than normal since all of this started. Let's get you to bed."

She stepped out of his arms, turning to face him and admitting. "Any scenario right now involving the two of us and a bed would destroy everything we've built in the past year. I'm in _incredibly_ severe need of… solace."

He colored and looked away but, being Will, his mind kept right on working. "Is there anyone you can maybe call?"

"A few people spring to mind, yes, but I don't want casual right now, Will. Which is the problem."

"Oh. Uh… how much of it's about sex and how much of it's about just needing someone to hold you?" he asked, looking incredibly uncomfortable, bless his heart.

"I want to be held, badly, but I'm afraid my hands might wander," she explained, stepping past him. "Good night, Will."

He grabbed her shoulder. "You can…" He cleared his throat. "You can take a few minutes alone first, then, get that part of it cleared up. I'll wait outside."

She stared at him. He was blushing furiously, but he looked entirely serious.

"There's no way you could be comfortable waiting outside knowing what I was doing on the other side of that door."

"I didn't say it would be _comfortable_. I said, for you, I'd be willing to deal with a little embarrassment."

His expression said it all about how uncomfortable he was with the idea. It also said it all about his resolve in the matter. He _wanted_ to hold her close for as long as she needed. And, for that, she was duly grateful.

"You're a good man, Will."

"That's because I have a good teacher," he answered, offering his hand.

She hesitated for a moment, then slipped her hand into his with a whispered, "My hands won't wander."

His fingers tightened around hers as he accepted her words for what they were, the words of a woman who never had and who never _would_ break her promises to him…

**The End**

**Author's Note:** I can't believe I actually finished this before season 2 started given how often and how badly I let myself be sidetracked. I hope you enjoyed it :)

I had a sequel planned (over 10,000 words of it are already written, lol) but that may never happen depending on how season 2 plays out. If it doesn't the scenes I've already written will probably be reworked and find their ways into other fics. I can't resist a healthy dose of hurt/comfort and that's almost all those scenes are (except for the occasional Will/Magnus shouting match and some scenes in which Ashley makes Will feel like a complete amateur at psychology, lol).


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